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Scott, John Reed, 1869-

"The Colonel of the Red Huzzars"


"I trust I know what it means to give my word to anyone," I returned.
"Now, don't get on your dignity, Armand," she laughed. "You understand
me perfectly."
I raised my hands in protest. "Understand you perfectly!" I exclaimed.
"I wish I understood you even a little."
"You're not as nice as you were during the first part of the dinner."
"Did you ever hear the slang Americanism 'there are others'?" I asked.
She took a cigarette and lighted it--and passed it to me; then lighted
another for herself.
"What was it you asked about that note?" she said, and gave me one of
those subduing smiles.
I dropped my hand below the table and found her fingers. "You meant
it, Dehra; truly?" I asked.
Sue released her fingers and placed both hands on the cloth. "Of
course I meant it--when I wrote it," she said.
"That's quite as much as I've any right to expect," I answered.
"That's the proper frame of mind, cousin," said she.
"And the sort you prefer in your admirers?"
She raised her eyebrows--"In my relatives--undoubtedly."
"Come," said I, "we must not quarrel."
"It would be the regular thing; I fight with all my relatives."
A footman handed the King a card, received a message, and withdrew.


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