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Stockton, Frank Richard, 1834-1902

"A Bicycle of Cathay"

I went to the upper end of the
room, as far as possible from the door.
In a few minutes I heard a step in the hall. I knew it, and it was
strange how soon I had learned to know it. She stopped in front of the
office, then she went on towards the porch, and turning she came into
the parlor, first looking towards the front of the room and then
towards the place where I stood.
The light from a window near me fell directly upon her as she
approached me, and I could see that there was a slight flush on her
face, but before she reached me it had disappeared. She did not greet
me. She did not offer me her hand. In fact, from what afterwards
happened, I believe that she did not consider me at that moment a fit
subject for ordinary greeting. She stood up in front of me. She gazed
steadfastly into my face. Her features wore something of their
ordinary pleasant expression, but to this there was added a certain
determination which I had never seen there before. She gave her head a
little quick shake.


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