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

"The Magician"

Margaret, apparently quite unconscious
of the effect she had produced, went on talking and laughing.
Soon the lights were put out, and Arthur's agony was ended. He wanted to
rush away, to hide his face, to forget the sight of her and her gaiety,
above all to forget that story. It was horrible, horrible.
She shook hands with him quite lightly.
'You must come and see us one day. We've got rooms at the Carlton.'
He bowed and did not answer. Susie had gone to the dressing-room to get
her cloak. She stood at the door when Margaret came out.
'Can we drop you anywhere?' said Margaret. 'You must come and see us when
you have nothing better to do.'
Susie threw back her head. Arthur was standing just in front of them
looking down at the ground in complete abstraction.
'Do you see him?' she said, in a low voice quivering with indignation.
'That is what you have made him.'
He looked up at that moment and turned upon them his sunken, tormented
eyes. They saw his wan, pallid face with its look of hopeless woe.
'Do you know that he's killing himself on your account? He can't sleep at
night.


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