The real ‘Alcide’,” she wound up with a faint smile across the table at him, “is here. Something or other—she did not catch what—he was damned if he could stand. But a middle-aged man like Ramage ought to know better than to draw out a girl, the daughter of a friend and neighbor. Her tone was hoarse with passion. And behind— there was Paris, memories of amazing things, memories which made his cheeks burn and his heart beat quickly as he sat there waiting for her. And yet, dang it! I've seen 'em just as innocent looking that were prime vipers. ‘C’est ridicule. “To begin with, I was—I was in the divorce court. ‘Lover’s tiff indeed. "The Dawn Pearl," he said. ” “I am convinced of it,” she answered. Her pulses began to race.
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