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Dell, Ethel M. (Ethel May), 1881-1939

"The Odds And Other Stories"


Dot looked after her for a moment, and then back at Hill. "She'll be all
right, won't she?" she asked.
"Of course she will!" said Hill.
"Then shall we wait a minute till the noise stops?" she suggested.
Hill paused, though not very willingly. "There is nothing to be nervous
about," he said.
She glanced at the cavernous opening with a little shudder. "I think it
is a dreadful place," she said.
She saw him faintly smile. "I thought it didn't appeal much to you," he
said.
She shivered. "Do you like it? But of course you do. You are interested
in it. Isn't that grinding noise terrible? It makes me want to run away
and hide."
Hill drew her to a large flat rock on the edge of the path. "Sit down,"
he said.
She did so, and he took up his stand beside her, one foot lodged upon the
stone. In the silence that followed she was aware of his eyes upon her,
intently watching her face. She gripped her hands hard around her knees,
enduring his scrutiny with a fast-throbbing heart. She expected some
curt, soul-searching question at the end of it. But none came. Instead,
the noise that reverberated through the valley suddenly ceased, and there
fell an intense stillness.
That racked her beyond bearing. She looked up at him at last with a
desperate courage and met his eyes. "What is it?" she questioned. "Why
do you--why do you look at me--like that?"
He made a brief gesture, as if refusing a challenge, and stood up.


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