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Sabatini, Rafael, 1875-1950

"Scaramouche"

Then he caught the reassuring accents of a woman,
musical and silvery, though laden with alarm.
"Ah, mon Dieu, Leandre, let us separate at once. If it should be
my father... "
And upon this a man's voice broke in, calm and reassuring:
"No, no, Climene; you are mistaken. There is no one coming. We
are quite safe. Why do you start at shadows?"
"Ah, Leandre, if he should find us here together! I tremble at the
very thought."
More was not needed to reassure Andre-Louis. He had overheard
enough to know that this was but the case of a pair of lovers who,
with less to fear of life, were yet - after the manner of their
kind - more timid of heart than he. Curiosity drew him from his
warm trough to the edge of the hay. Lying prone, he advanced his
head and peered down.
In the space of cropped meadow between the barn and the hedge stood
a man and a woman, both young. The man was a well-set-up, comely
fellow, with a fine head of chestnut hair tied in a queue by a
broad bow of black satin. He was dressed with certain tawdry
attempts at ostentatious embellishments, which did not prepossess
one at first glance in his favour.


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