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Roe, Edward Payson, 1838-1888

"His Sombre Rivals"

Hilland's eyes kindled as he looked upon her, as she stood
with averted face, conscious meanwhile of his admiration, and exulting
in it. What sweeter incense is ever offered to a woman?
"Grace," he whispered, "you would create a pulse in a marble statue
to-night. You never looked more lovely."
"There is a glamour on your eyes, Warren," she replied; and yet the
quick flash of joy that came into her face proved the power of his
words, which still had all the exquisite charm of novelty.
"It's the glamour that will last while I do," he responded, earnestly.
"Are not this scene and hour perfect? and you are the gem of it all. I
don't see how a man could ask or wish for more than I have to-night,
except that it might last forever." A shadow passed over his face, and
he added, presently, "To think that after a few weeks I must return to
those blasted mines! One thing is settled, however. I shall close out
my interests there as speedily as possible; and were it not for my
obligations to others, I'd never go near them again. I have money
enough twice over, and am a fool to miss one hour with you."
"You will be all the happier, Warren, if you close up your interests
in the West in a manly, business-like way.


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