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Rinehart, Mary Roberts

"Bab"

I am just crazy
about it."
Ah, dear Dairy, how can I write how I felt when being led
to him. The entire seen is engraved on my Soul. I, with my very
heart in my eyes, in spite of my eforts to seem cool and
collected. He, in front of his mirror, drawing in the lines of
starvation around his mouth for the next seen, while on his poor
feet a valet put the raged shoes of Act II!
He rose when I entered, and took me by the hand.
"Well!" he said. "At last!"
He did not seem to mind the _valet_, whom he treated like
a chair or table. And he held my hand and looked deep into my
eyes.
Ah, dear Dairy, Men may come and Men may go in my life, but
never again will I know such ecstacy as at that moment.
"Sit down," he said. "Little Lady of the rose--but it's
violets today, isn't it? And so you like the Play?"
I was by that time somwhat calmer, but glad to sit down,
owing to my knees feeling queer.
"I think it is magnifacent," I said.
"I wish there were more like you," he observed. "Just a
moment, I have to make a change here. No need to go out. There's
a screan for that very purpose.


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