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Merriman, Henry Seton, 1862-1903

"From One Generation to Another"

"
Arthur rose too. The thought that his visitor might be about to depart
thrilled through him with the warmth of relieved suspense.
"For your own information," said Michael, looking straight into the
wavering, colourless eyes, "I may tell you that in my opinion--the
opinion of an expert--this expedition is exceedingly hazardous. We--we
must be prepared for the worst."
Arthur Agar turned away. He had felt the deep eyes probing his very
soul--looking right through him. A sickening sense of weakness was at his
heart. He felt that in the presence of this man he did not belong to
himself.
"You mean," he muttered awkwardly, "that Jem will never come back?"
"I think it most probable. And then--when we have to abandon all hope, I
mean--we shall be glad that we kept this thing to ourselves."
Seymour Michael held out his hand, and pressed the boy's weak fingers in
a careless grip. Then he turned, and with a short "Good-bye" left him.
Arthur stood looking at the closed door with the frightened eyes of a
woman.


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