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Dell, Ethel M. (Ethel May), 1881-1939

"The Way of an Eagle"

His lips twitched from time to time,
and she knew that he was very anxious, intensely impatient under his
stillness for the doctor's coming. She remembered that old trick of
his. She had never before associated it with any emotion.
Suddenly he turned his head as if he had felt her scrutiny, and looked
straight into her eyes. It was only for a moment. His glance flickered
beyond her with scarcely a pause. Yet it was to her as if by that
swift look he had spoken, had for the first time made deep and
passionate protest against her bitter judgment of him, had as it were
shown her in a single flash the human heart beneath the jester's garb.
And again very deep down in her soul there stirred that blind,
unconscious entity, of the existence of which she herself had so vague
a knowledge, feeling upwards, groping outwards, to the light.
There came upon her a sudden curious sense of consternation--a feeling
as of a mental earthquake when the very foundations of the soul
are shaken. Had she conceivably been mistaken in him? With all her
knowledge of him, had she by some strange mischance--some maddening,
some inexplicable misapprehension--failed utterly and miserably to see
this man as he really was?
For the first time the question sprang up within her. And she found no
answer to it--only that breathless, blank dismay.


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