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He laid his hand on her wrist. "Elizabeth?" he said.
She turned in unfeigned astonishment. Nothing but the fear of a strange
man showed in her face.
"
Elizabeth," he cried, and his voice was strange to him: "dearest--you
know me?"
Elizabeth's face showed nothing but alarm and perplexity. She drew
herself away from him. The chaperone, a little grey-headed woman with
mobile features, leant forward to intervene. Her resolute bright eyes
examined Denton. "What do you say?" she asked.
"
"
"
This young lady," said Denton,--"she knows me."
Do you know him, dear?"
No," said Elizabeth in a strange voice, and with a hand to her
forehead, speaking almost as one who repeats a lesson. "No, I do not
know him. I know--I do not know him."
"
But--but ... Not know me! It is I--Denton. Denton! To whom you used to
talk. Don't you remember the flying stages? The little seat in the open
air? The verses--"
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