The Prime Minister by Anthony Trollope
page 68 of 1055 (06%)
page 68 of 1055 (06%)
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'What is it, Plantagenet?' she exclaimed, jumping up from her chair. 'I never cared for your ridicule hitherto, Cora, but now I feel that I want your sympathy.' 'If you are going to do anything,--to do really anything, you shall have it. Oh, how you shall have it!' 'I have received her Majesty's orders to go down to Windsor at once. I must start within half an hour.' 'You are going to be Prime Minister!' she exclaimed. As she spoke she threw her arms up, and then rushed into his embrace. Never since their first union had she been so demonstrative either of love or admiration. 'Oh, Plantagenet,' she said, 'if I can do anything I will slave for you.' As he put his arm round her waist he already felt the pleasantness of her altered way to him. She had never worshipped him yet, and therefore her worship when it did come had all the delight to him which it ordinarily has to the newly married hero. 'Stop a moment, Cora. I do not know how it may be yet. But this I know, that if without cowardice I could avoid this task, I would certainly avoid it.' 'Oh no! And there would be cowardice; of course there would,' said the Duchess, not much caring what might be the bonds which bound him to the task so long as he should certainly feel himself |
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