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

"She"

The lovely face grew rigid,
and the gracious willowy form seemed to erect itself.
"Man," she half whispered, half hissed, throwing back her head like a
snake about to strike--"Man, whence hadst thou that scarab on thy hand?
Speak, or by the Spirit of Life I will blast thee where thou standest!"
and she took one light step towards me, and from her eyes there shone
such an awful light--to me it seemed almost like a flame--that I fell,
then and there, on the ground before her, babbling confusedly in my
terror.
"Peace," she said, with a sudden change of manner, and speaking in her
former soft voice. "I did affright thee! Forgive me! But at times, oh
Holly, the almost infinite mind grows impatient of the slowness of the
very finite, and am I tempted to use my power out of vexation--very
nearly wast thou dead, but I remembered----. But the scarab--about the
scarabaeus!"
"I picked it up," I gurgled feebly, as I got on to my feet again, and
it is a solemn fact that my mind was so disturbed that at the moment I
could remember nothing else about the ring except that I had picked it
up in Leo's cave.


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