[The Puppet Crown by Harold MacGrath]@TWC D-Link book
The Puppet Crown

CHAPTER XII
18/31

All that was tigerish in her soul rose to the surface; only the thought of the glittering goal stayed the outburst.

She had yet one weapon.

A minute went by, still another; silence.

A hand was laid tremblingly on his arm.
"Forgive me! I was wrong.

Love me, love me, if you must.


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