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Maugham, W. Somerset (William Somerset), 1874-1965

"The Magician"

The fire
of her kisses still burnt upon his lips. He had spent a night of almost
sleepless ecstasy because he had been certain for the first time that the
passion which consumed him burnt in her heart too. Words were dragged out
of him against his will.
'Oh, I'm sure she loved me.'
Meanwhile Susie's eyes were fixed on Haddo's cruel telegram. She seemed
to hear his mocking laughter.
'Margaret loathed Oliver Haddo with a hatred that was almost unnatural.
It was a physical repulsion like that which people sometimes have for
certain animals. What can have happened to change it into so great a love
that it has made her capable of such villainous acts?'
'We mustn't be unfair to him,' said Arthur. 'He put our backs up, and we
were probably unjust. He has done some very remarkable things in his day,
and he's no fool. It's possible that some people wouldn't mind the
eccentricities which irritated us. He's certainly of very good family and
he's rich. In many ways it's an excellent match for Margaret.'
He was trying with all his might to find excuses for her.


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