Miles Tremenhere: A Novel. Vol. 1 of 2Maillard, Annette Marie
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Miles Tremenhere: A Novel. Vol. 1 of 2
Maillard, Annette Marie
English fiction
"Because, because!" she hesitated a moment; then, by an effort over her
emotion, added more resolutely, "because he knows _all_, and Miles is
not one silently to pass over wrong to one he once loved and respected."
"Oh, that's it--is it?" Rising, he advanced a step towards the trembling
woman; but suddenly paused, and hastily turned round. "What was that?"
he exclaimed, looking fixedly at a door behind him, at which Viper had
sprung growling.
The study had two doors in it, one leading through the corridor--the one
by which Mary had entered; the other leading to a dressing-room,
adjoining Marmaduke's bedroom--it was at this one the dog lay growling.
"Curse that dog!" he cried angrily, "he makes one fanciful and nervous.
Did you hear any thing?"
"Nothing," she rejoined, trembling with a strange tremor.
Marmaduke turned paler too than even he generally was--it was a coward
pallor. Reaching a book from the table, he flung it at Viper, who
startled, but not cowed, sprung under the table, upsetting the basket as
he did so, which contained the torn papers; and then, as his master
turned away, he returned again to his post at the door, and commenced
scratching and growling at it. Marmaduke uttered a deep oath, and,
seizing the animal by the throat, hastily opened the door leading
towards the corridor, and flung him out. As he turned his back, a
sudden, uncontrollable impulse seized Mary to stoop, and, unseen by him,
grasp and conceal a paper which had fallen from the basket as Viper
upset it. She felt that any thing written by that man might be of value
to Miles; moreover, she saw how he (Marmaduke) had been employed with
old papers and parchments, which made the one she held possibly more
valuable.
"Now," he said, closing the door, "let us have a few final words, and
then leave me; and if we meet again at your seeking, it will be a day of
sorrow to you. I wish to do you no injury, for I liked you once--do not
mistake," he hastily added, seeing she was about to speak; "I never
_loved_ you--no, that was man's right of speech when I said so; we are
bound to employ the same weapons others use against ourselves."
"What do you mean?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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