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Crawford, F. Marion (Francis Marion), 1854-1909

"Taquisara"

I hope your Excellency will pardon me. And I heard you
cry out, just now. Then, forgetting that I ought not to have been
sleeping there, I got up and came."
"Oh! Did I cry out? Yes--I woke up suddenly. I was dreaming of Don
Teodoro and of--" She checked herself. "Why did you not tell me that
your room is damp? You shall have another."
"Excellency, if you will forgive me, it would give trouble at this time.
If you will allow me to sleep on the sofa until the weather is fine
again. I will make no noise. You have seen--in the morning no one would
know it, and I am very well there."
Veronica looked at her and hesitated a moment. In the stillness she
heard a soft sound.
"What is that?" she asked quickly.
"It is the cat," answered the maid, peering down below the level of the
candle-light.
"It did not sound like the cat," said Veronica, pushing her dark, brown
hair back with her slim hand, and looking down over the edge of the bed.
"It was more like a footstep," she added, with a little laugh.
But at that moment she caught sight of the Maltese cat's green eyes in
shadow. The creature came forward from the door, sprang instantly upon
the foot of the bed and lay down, purring, its forepaws doubled under
it, and its eyes shut.
"It is a heavy cat," said Elettra, thoughtfully. "It is so fat. One can
hear it when it walks across the room."
She scratched its head gently, and it purred more loudly under her hand.
"Excellency, you will allow me to sleep in the dressing-room, just for
these days," she said presently.


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