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Atherton, Gertrude Franklin Horn, 1857-1948

"Sleeping Fires: a Novel"

Even then they were often grinning.
But this looked like plain Hell to Madeleine, or worse. The Hell of
the Bible and Dante had a lively accompaniment of writhing flames and
was presumably clean. This might be an underground race condemned to
a sordid filthy and living death for unimaginable crimes of a
previous existence. Even the children looked as if they had come back
to Earth with the sins of threescore and ten stamped upon their weary
wicked faces. Madeleine's strong soul faltered, and she grasped
Holt's arm.
"Well, you see for yourself," he said unsympathetically. "Better go
back and let me bring him to you. One of our men can easily knock him
out--"
"I'm here and I shall go on. I'll stay all night if necessary."
Lacey looked at her with open adoration; he had fallen truculently
in love with her. If Masters no longer loved her he felt quite equal
to killing him, although with no dreams for himself. He hoped that if
Masters were too far gone for redemption she would recognize the fact
at once, forget him, and find happiness somewhere. He was glad on the
whole that she had come to Five Points.
"What's the program?" asked one of the detectives, kicking a
sprawling form out of the way. "Do you know where he hangs out?"
"No," said Lacey.


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