Manchurian Books

Then somebody at
my elbow said:
"All right, Barbara. Everything's fixed."
It was Carter.
"He's waiting in the corner over there," he said. "We'd
better go through the formalaty of an introduction. He's
positively twittering with excitement."
"Carter" I said desparately. "I want to tell you somthing
first. I've got myself in an awful mess. I----"
"Sure you have," he said. "That's why I'm here, to help you
out. Now you be calm, and there's no reason why you two can't
have the evening of your young lives. I wish _I_ could fall in
Love. It must be bully."
"Carter----!"
"Got his note, didn't you?"
"Yes, I----"
"Here we are," said Carter. "Miss Archibald, I would like
to present Mr. Grosvenor."
Somebody bowed in front of me, and then straightened up and
looked down at me. _It was the man of the Picture, little
mustache and all_. My mouth went perfectly dry.
It is all very well to talk about Romance and Love, and all
that sort of thing. But I have concluded that amorus experiences
are not always agreeable. And I have discovered something else.


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