“What are you doing?” he asked. '" "No, we can't stand that," hiccupped Smith, scarcely able to keep his legs. Their conversation hung. And now take away those cards, and never let me see them again. The uncanny directness of those gray eyes, the absence of diffidence, the beauty of the face in profile (full, it seemed a little too broad to make for perfect beauty), the mellow voice that came full and free, without hesitance, all combined to mark her as the most unusual young woman he had ever met. Ennison roused himself with an effort, took a long drink from his whisky and soda, and lit a cigarette. “Look at our clothes,” she exclaimed, “and besides, the funny little proprietor has gone down himself to help it along. ” “Possibly—bit by bit. His eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy; he let out a sigh. . Um.
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