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Merriman, Henry Seton, 1862-1903

"From One Generation to Another"

"
"No," replied Agar, in the calm voice which raised a sort of "fearful
joy" in Ruthine's soul, "we need not be getting to the train yet, and
there is no reason for it to be a long story."
Seymour Michael gave an uneasy little laugh, which met with no response
whatever. The two taller men exchanged a glance over his head. Up to that
moment Jem Agar had hoped for the best. He had a greater faith in human
nature than Mark Ruthine had managed to retain.
"Have you or have you not told those people whom you swore to me that you
would tell, out there, that night?" asked Jem.
"I told your brother," answered the General with dogged indifference.
"Only?"
There was an ugly gleam in the blue eyes.
"I didn't tell him not to tell the others."
"But you suggested it to him," put in Mark Ruthine, with the knowledge of
mankind that was his.
"What has it got to do with you, at any rate?" snapped Seymour Michael.
"Nothing," replied Ruthine, looking across at Agar.
"You did not tell Dora Glynde?"
General Michael shrugged his shoulders.


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