"
"Will it?" Kitty's eyes flashed. She sat up radiant, her breath quick
and defiant.
"I don't see," he resumed, "how you can publish it without consulting
Ashe."
Kitty gave a cry of protest.
"No, no,
no! Of course he'd disapprove. But then--he soon forgives a
thing, if he thinks it clever. And it is clever, isn't it?--some of it.
He'd laugh--and then it would be all right.
He'd never pay out his
enemies, but he couldn't help enjoying it if some one else did--could
he?" She pleaded like a child.
"'No need to forgive them,'" murmured Darrell, as he rolled over on his
back and put his hat over his eyes--"for you would have 'shot them
all.'"
Under the shelter of his hat he tried to think himself clear. What
really were her motives? Partly, no doubt, a childish love of
excitement--partly revenge? The animus against the Parhams was clear in
every page. Cliffe, too, came badly out of it--a fantastic Byronic
mixture of libertine and cad. Lady Kitty had better beware! As far as
he knew, Cliffe had never yet been struck, with impunity to the striker.
If these precious sheets ever appeared, Ashe's position would certainly
be shaken.
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