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The Project Gutenberg eBook, A Black Adonis, by Linn Boyd Porter This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at Title: A Black Adonis Author: Linn Boyd Porter Release Date: September 12, 2008 [eBook #26599] Language: English Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 ***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A BLACK ADONIS*** E-text prepared by Mark C. Orton, Linda McKeown, and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team ( TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE: Every effort has been made to replicate this text as faithfully as possible; please see list of printing issues at the end of the text. A BLACK ADONIS. BY ALBERT ROSS. THE ALBATROSS NOVELS By ALBERT ROSS 23 Volumes May be had wherever books are sold at the price you paid for this volume Black Adonis, A Garston Bigamy, The Her Husband's Friend His Foster Sister His Private Character In Stella's Shadow Love at Seventy Love Gone Astray Moulding a Maiden Naked Truth, The New Sensation, A Original Sinner, An Out of Wedlock Speaking of Ellen Stranger Than Fiction Sugar Princess, A That Gay Deceiver Their Marriage Bond Thou Shalt Not Thy Neighbor's Wife Why I'm Single Young Fawcett's Mabel Young Miss Giddy G. W. DILLINGHAM CO. Publishers :: :: New York A BLACK ADONIS. BY ALBERT ROSS. AUTHOR OF "OUT OF WEDLOCK," "SPEAKING OF ELLEN," "THOU SHALT NOT," "WHY I'M SINGLE," "LOVE AT SEVENTY," ETC., ETC. "You see!" he answered, bitterly. "Because I am black I cannot touch the hand of a woman that is white. And yet you say the Almighty made of one blood all nations of the earth!"—Page 212. NEW YORK: COPYRIGHT, 1896, BY G. W. DILLINGHAM. G. W. Dillingham Co., Publishers. [All rights reserved.] CONTENTS CHAPTER I. II. III. IV. V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. X. XI. XII. XIII. XIV. XV. XVI. XVII. XVIII. XIX. XX. XXI. XXII. XXIII. XXIV. XXV. XXVI. XXVII. XXVIII. XXIX. A Rejected Manuscript "Was my story too bold?" "Her feet were pink" With Titian Tresses Studying Miss Millicent "How the women stare!" A Dinner at Midlands Holding Her Hand "Daisy, my darling!" "Oh, so many, many maids!" Archie Pays Attention Dining at Isaac's A Question of Color "Let us have a betrayal" The Green-Eyed Monster "I've had such luck!" A Burglar in the House Black and White "Play out your farce" Like a Stuck Pig "We want Millie to understand" Where Was Daisy? An Awful Night "This ends it, then?" An Undiscoverable Secret "I played, and I lost" Absolutely Blameless Trapping a Wolf "The Greatest Novel" [v] PAGE * 9 23 35 49 65 79 93 99 110 121 136 143 155 166 177 190 198 204 215 226 238 246 254 263 273 282 292 301 309 TO MY READERS. I do not know how better to use the space that the printer always leaves me in this part of the book than to redeem the promise I made at the end of my last novel, and tell you in a few words what became of Blanche Brixton Fantelli and her husband. But, do you really need to be told? Could they have done anything else than live in connubial felicity, after the man had proved himself so noble and the woman had learned to appreciate him at his true worth? Well, whether they could or not, they didn't. Blanche is the happiest of wedded wives. She still holds to her theory that marriage is based on wrong principles, and that the contract as ordinarily made is frightfully immoral; but she says if all men were like "her Jules" there would be no trouble. In this she proves herself essentially feminine. She is learning, albeit a little late, that man was not made to live alone, and that the love a mother feels for her child is not the only one that brings joy to a woman's breast. [vii] Fantelli does not claim that Blanche is his property. He is her lover still, even though he has gained the law's [viii] permission to be her master. He recognizes that she has rights in herself that are inviolable. This is why they live together so contentedly. She would not be his mate on any other terms. If it is not the ideal existence, it is very near it. As near as a man and woman who care for the world's opinion can live it in these days. And now, with heartfelt thanks for the continued favor of the reading public, which I am conscious is far beyond my desert, I bid a temporary farewell to American shores. By the time this book is on the shelves of the dealers I shall be on European soil, there to remain, I trust, for the better part of a year. Wherever I am, my thoughts will always turn to you who have made these journeys possible, and there as here my pen will continue devoted to your service. ALBERT ROSS. Cambridge, Mass., June 1, 1895. A BLACK ADONIS. CHAPTER I. A REJECTED MANUSCRIPT. "A letter for Mr. Roseleaf," he heard his landlady say to the chambermaid. And he was quite prepared to hear the girl reply, in a tone of surprise: "For Mr. Roseleaf! This is the first letter he has had since he came." The young man referred to stood just within his chamber door, waiting with some anxiety for the letter to be brought to him. He was about twenty years of age, of medium height, with rather dark complexion, curling hair and expressive eyes, and with a natural delicacy of manner that made him seem almost feminine at first view. He had the greatest possible interest in the letter that the postman had just brought, but he was far too polite to disturb the landlady or her servant, who were not yet through with it. [9] "You can see that it is from a publishing house," commented Mrs. Ranning, inspecting the envelope with care. [10] "It is from Cutt & Slashem, who bring out more novels than any other firm in the city. I told you he was some kind of a writer. Perhaps they are going to publish a book for him! If they do he will leave us for finer quarters. Novelists make a mint of money, I have heard. We must do our best to keep him as long as we can. Be very polite to him, Nellie. He appears to be an excellent young man." Shirley Roseleaf's anxiety to get possession of his letter was not lessened by this conversation. It seemed as if his entire future hung on the contents of that envelope tarrying so long
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