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Barrie, J. M. (James Matthew), 1860-1937

"Tommy and Grizel"

She was going now.
"If I thought there was any blood in your veins, you icy woman----"
"Or in your own," said she. But she said it a little fiercely, and he
noticed that.
"Alice," he cried, "I know now. It is to drive that look from your
face that I am here."
She courtesied from the door. She was quite herself again.
But for that moment she had been moved. He was convinced of it, and
his first feeling was of exultation as in an achievement. I don't know
what you are doing just now, Lady Pippinworth, but my compliments to
you, and T. Sandys is swelling.
There followed on this exultation another feeling as sincere--devout
thankfulness that he had gone no further. He drew deep breaths of
relief over his escape, but knew that he had not himself to thank. His
friends, the little sprites, had done it, in return for the amusement
he seemed to give them. They had stayed him in the nick of time, but
not earlier; it was quite as if they wanted Tommy to have his fun
first. So often they had saved him from being spitted, how could he
guess that the great catastrophe was fixed for to-night, and that
henceforth they were to sit round him counting his wriggles, as if
this new treatment of him tickled them even more than the other?
But he was too clever not to know that they might be fattening him for
some very special feast, and his thanks took the form of a vow to need
their help no more.


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