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Leacock, Stephen, 1869-1944

"Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy"

The fourth footman will bring
my things--I can rely on him; the fifth housemaid can
have them all ready--she would never betray me. I will
have the undergardener--the sixth--waiting at the iron
gate to let you in; he would die rather than fail me."
She paused again--then she went on.
"There is only one thing, dearest, that I want to ask.
It is not much. I hardly think you would refuse it at
such an hour. May I bring my husband with me?"
De Vere's face blanched.
"Must you?" he said.
"I think I must," said Dorothea. "You don't know how I've
grown to value, to lean upon, him. At times I have felt
as if I always wanted him to be near me; I like to feel
wherever I am--at the play, at a restaurant, anywhere
--that I can reach out and touch him. I know," she
continued, "that it's only a wild fancy and that others
would laugh at it, but you can understand, can you
not--carino caruso mio? And think, darling, in our new
life, how busy he, too, will be--making money for all of
us--in a new money market.


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