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Vance, Louis Joseph, 1879-1933

"The Brass Bowl"


"Be still, you little fool!" he told her sharply. "Do you think that I'm
going to let you go a third time? Not till I'm through with you.... And if
you scream, by the powers, I'll throttle you!"


XIV

RETRIBUTION
She sank back, speechless. Anisty glanced her up and down without visible
emotion, then laughed unpleasantly,--the hard and unyielding laugh of
brute man brutishly impassioned.
"This silly ass, Maitland," he observed, "isn't really as superfluous as
he seems. _I_ find him quite a convenience, and I suppose that ought
to be totted up to his credit, since it's because he's got the good taste
to resemble me.... Consider his thoughtfulness in providing me this cab!
What'd I've done without it? To tell the truth I was quite at a loss to
frame it up, how to win your coy consent to this giddy elopement, back
there in the hall. But dear kind Mis-ter Maitland, bless his innocent
heart! fixes it all up for me.... And so," concluded the criminal with
ironic relish,--"and so I've got _you_, my lady."
He looked at her in sidelong fashion, speculative, calculating,
relentless. And she bowed her head, assenting, "Yes--"
"You're dead right, little woman. Got you. Um-mmm."
She made no reply; she could have made none aside from raising an outcry,
although now she was regaining something of her shattered poise, and with
it the ability to accept the situation quietly, for a little time (she
could not guess how long she could endure the strain), pending an
opportunity to turn the tables on this, her persecutor.


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