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Haggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider), 1856-1925

"She"

Nevertheless I like this Baboon, and I wonder where they
taught him his tricks, and I trust that _She_ will not bewitch him. Poor
Baboon! he must be wearied after that fight. I will go lest I should
awake him."
I waited till he had turned and was nearly through the entrance, walking
softly on tiptoe, and then I called after him.
"My father," I said, "is it thou?"
"Yes, my son, it is I; but let me not disturb thee. I did but come to
see how thou didst fare, and to tell thee that those who would have
slain thee, my Baboon, are by now far on their road to _She_. _She_ said
that ye also were to come at once, but I fear ye cannot yet."
"Nay," I said, "not till we have recovered a little; but have me borne
out into the daylight, I pray thee, my father. I love not this place."
"Ah, no," he answered, "it hath a sad air. I remember when I was a boy I
found the body of a fair woman lying where thou liest now, yes, on that
very bench. She was so beautiful that I was wont to creep in hither with
a lamp and gaze upon her.


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