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Hope, Anthony, 1863-1933

"The Prisoner of Zenda"

Yet
how I envied him! For the triumphant issue which would crown him with
happiness and unite him to his mistress, the success for which we were
bound to hope and strive and struggle, meant to me sorrow more certain
and greater than if I were doomed to fail. He understood something of
this, for when we were alone (save for old Sapt, who was smoking at the
other end of the room) he passed his arm through mine, saying:
"It's hard for you. Don't think I don't trust you; I know you have
nothing but true thoughts in your heart."
But I turned away from him, thankful that he could not see what my heart
held, but only be witness to the deeds that my hands were to do.
Yet even he did not understand, for he had not dared to lift his eyes to
the Princess Flavia, as I had lifted mine.
Our plans were now all made, even as we proceeded to carry them out, and
as they will hereafter appear. The next morning we were to start on the
hunting excursion. I had made all arrangements for being absent, and
now there was only one thing left to do--the hardest, the most
heart-breaking. As evening fell, I drove through the busy streets to
Flavia's residence. I was recognized as I went and heartily cheered. I
played my part, and made shift to look the happy lover. In spite of my
depression, I was almost amused at the coolness and delicate hauteur
with which my sweet lover received me.


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