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Crawford, F. Marion (Francis Marion), 1854-1909

"Whosoever Shall Offend"

Aurora remembered how strongly it had lifted her to the edge of
the rock, far away by Pontresina.
"You are very kind, Signorina," said the faint voice. "You see how I
am."
Aurora saw indeed, and kept the hand in hers as she sat down in the
chair that stood where Marcello had left it.
"I am very, very sorry," she said, leaning forward a little and looking
into the worn face, colourless now that the fever had subsided for a
while.
The same bright smile that Kalmon had seen lighted up Regina's features.
"But I am glad!" she answered. "They do not understand that I am glad."
"No, no!" cried Aurora softly. "Don't say you are glad!"
The smile faded, and a very earnest look came into the hollow dark eyes.
"But I have not done it on purpose," Regina said. "I did not know there
was fever in that place, or I would not have sat down there. You believe
me, Signorina, don't you?"
"Yes, indeed!"
The smile returned very gradually, and the anxious pressure of the hand
relaxed.
"You must not think that I was looking for the fever. But since it came,
and I am going from here, I am glad. I shall not be in the way any more.
That hindrance will be taken out of his life."
"He would not like to hear you speak like this," Aurora said, with great
gentleness.
"There is no time for anything except the truth, now. And you are good,
so good! No, there is no time. To-morrow, I shall be gone. Signorina, if
I could kneel at your feet, I would kneel.


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