Manchurian Books

With soft exclamatory twitters the Readers' Guild thanked St.
George, and Miss Bella Bliss Utter, who was of womankind who clasp
their hands when they praise, stood thus beside him until he took
his leave. The woman in the red waist summoned an attendant to show
him back down the long corridor.
At the grated door within the entrance St. George found the warden
in stormy conference with a pale blond youth in spectacles.
"Impossible," the warden was saying bluntly, "I know you. I know
your voice. You called me up this morning from the _New York
Sentinel_ office, and I told you then--"
"But, my dear sir," expostulated the pale blond youth, waving a
music roll, "I do assure you--"
"What he says is quite true, Warden," St. George interposed
courteously, "I will vouch for him. I have just been singing for the
Readers' Guild myself."
The warden dropped back with a grudging apology and brows of tardy
suspicion, and the old man blinked his buckle eyes.
"Gentlemen," said St. George, "good morning.


Pages:
31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55