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Wharton, Edith, 1862-1937

"Summer"

"
He turned away slowly, but as he did so the thing she had been waiting
for happened; the door opened again and Harney entered.
He stopped short with a face of astonishment, and then, quickly
controlling himself, went up to Mr. Royall with a frank look.
"Have you come to see me, sir?" he said coolly, throwing his cap on the
table with an air of proprietorship.
Mr. Royall again looked slowly about the room; then his eyes turned to
the young man.
"Is this your house?" he inquired.
Harney laughed: "Well--as much as it's anybody's. I come here to sketch
occasionally."
"And to receive Miss Royall's visits?"
"When she does me the honour----"
"Is this the home you propose to bring her to when you get married?"
There was an immense and oppressive silence. Charity, quivering with
anger, started forward, and then stood silent, too humbled for speech.
Harney's eyes had dropped under the old man's gaze; but he raised them
presently, and looking steadily at Mr. Royall, said: "Miss Royall is not
a child.


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