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Green, Anna Katharine, 1846-1935

"The Chief Legatee"

A sudden weakness had seized him and he
sank faltering back into a chair Harper pushed towards him, still
denouncing her, however, with lifted hand and accusing eyes, the
image--though no longer a speaking one--of the implacable and determined
avenger.
Georgian, shocked into silence, stared at him in a frenzy of complicated
emotions to which neither of them as yet had given the key capable of
relieving the maddening tension.
"It is the pool; the pool," she finally murmured. "Its waters have beaten
out your life." But he calmly shook his head.
"It is not in water to do that," he murmured. "Give me a moment. I've a
question to ask. I think a drop of liquor--"
Harper had flask in hand almost before the word had left the other's
mouth. The draft revived Hazen; he looked up at Georgian. "I believe you,
so do these men believe you. But you were not alone in this plot. Where
is Anitra? Where is the deaf and solitary one you dragged from the
streets of New York to bolster up your plot? Tell us and tell us quickly.
Where is Anitra?"
"Anitra? Do you ask that?" cried Harper, roused to speak for the first
time by his boundless amazement and indignation. "You have described the
body in the pool--a description which fits either sister, and yet you
would make this woman tell us what you have seen with your own eyes.


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