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Wells, H. G. (Herbert George), 1866-1946

"Love and Mr. Lewisham"


Ethel appeared in the half doorway and her, expression was unfamiliar.
He stared at her white face.
"Why on earth did you put my roses here?" he asked.
She stared back at him. Her face reflected his astonishment.
"Why did you put my roses here?" he asked again.
"Your roses!" she cried, "What! Did _you_ send those roses?"


CHAPTER XXIX.
THORNS AND ROSE PETALS.

He remained stooping and staring up at her, realising the implication
of her words only very slowly.
Then it grew clear to him.
As she saw understanding dawning in his face, she uttered a cry of
consternation. She came forward and sat down upon the little bedroom
chair. She turned to him and began a sentence. "I," she said, and
stopped, with an impatient gesture of her hands. "_Oh_!"
He straightened himself and stood regarding her. The basket of roses
lay overturned between them.
"You thought these came from someone else?" he said, trying to grasp
this inversion of the universe.
She turned her eyes, "I did not know," she panted. "A trap.... Was it
likely--they came from you?"
"You thought they came from someone else," he said.
"Yes," she said, "I did."
"Who?"
"Mr. Baynes."
"That boy!"
"Yes--that boy."
"Well!"
Lewisham looked about him--a man in the presence of the inconceivable.


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