She may
be, doubtless is, a bad, bad lot; yet nevertheless I can't help liking
her--and for finesse and skill she is a wonder." Then she looked at him
demurely. "You're fond of her, Mr. Harleston, are you not?"
"I'm fond of her," he replied slowly; "but not as fond as I once was,
and not so long ago, I'll tell you more about it before we go in to
dinner this evening."
"I wasn't aware that we were to dine together In fact, I was thinking of
doing something else."
"But you _will_ dine with me now, won't you?" he asked meaningly.
Her eyes hesitated, and fell, and a bewitching flush stole into her
cheek; she understood that he asked of her something more than a mere
dinner. And, after a pause, she answered softly, yet not so softly but
that he heard:
"If you wish it, Monsieur Harleston."
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