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Beach, Rex Ellingwood, 1877-1949

"Heart of the Sunset"

"Did it ever
occur to you that I might object?" he demanded.
Alaire eyed him scornfully. "What right have you to object?"
Ed could not restrain a malevolent gleam of curiosity. "Say, who
is it? Ain't I entitled to know that much?" As Alaire remained
silent he let his eyes rove over her with a kind of angry
appreciation. "You're pretty enough to stampede any man," he
admitted. "Yes, and you've got money, too. I'll bet it's the
Ranger. So, you've been having your fling while I was away. Hunh!
We're tarred with the same stick."
"You don't really believe that," she told him, sharply.
"Why not? You've had enough opportunity. I don't see anything of
you, and haven't for years. Well, I was a fool to trust you."
Alaire's eyes were very dark and very bright as she said: "I
wonder how I have managed to live with you as long as I have. I
knew you were weak, nasty--so I was prepared for something like
this. But I never thought you were a downright criminal until--"
"Criminal? Rot!"
"How about that Guzman affair? You can't go much lower, Ed, and
you can't keep me here with you."
"I can't keep you, eh?" he growled. "Well, perhaps not.


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