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Gissing, George, 1857-1903

"Demos"


'You're thinking of Mr. Dabbs, I suppose. What did he want to see
you for, Dick?'
Alice looked at him from the corner of her eye.
'I think I'll tell you. He says he doesn't intend to come here
again. You've made him feel uncomfortable.'
The girl laughed.
'I can't help how he feels, can I? At all events, Mr. Dabbs isn't a
gentleman, is he, now?'
'He's an honest man, and that's saying a good deal, let me tell you.
I rather thought you liked him.'
'Liked him? Oh, in a way, of course. But things are different.'
'How different?'
Alice looked up, put her head on one side, smiled her prettiest, and
asked--
'Is it true, what 'Arry says--about the money?'
He had wanted to get at this, and was, on the whole, not sorry to
hear it. Richard was studying the derivation of virtue from
necessity.
'What if it is?' he asked.
'Well, it makes things more different even than I thought, that's
all.'
She sprang to her feet and danced across the room, one hand bent
over her head. It was not an ungraceful picture. Her brother smiled.
'Alice, you'd better be guided by me. I know a little of the world,
and I can help you where you'd make mistakes. Just keep to yourself
for a little, my girl, and get on with your piano and your books.
You can't do better, believe me.


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