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Farnol, Jeffery, 1878-1952

"The Definite Object A Romance of New York"

"I say--when you have!"
"Ah, to be sure!" said Ravenslee, turning his attention to his carving
again, while Hermione bowed her golden head above the teacups.
"Gee, but she cuts tender!" quoth Spike; "that bird sure has the Indian
sign on me!"
"Sugar, Mr. Geoffrey?"
"Two lumps, please."
"Milk, Mr. Geoffrey?"
"Thank you!"
"Geoff," said Spike wearily, "I cracked that milk jug last night, but
you don't have to sit starin' at it that way, an' me dyin' of hunger by
inches!"
"My humble apologies!" said Ravenslee, wresting his gaze from a certain
curl and fixing it upon the turkey again. "I'm a little--er--distracted
to-night, it seems."
"Oh, Gee!" said Spike in a hopeless tone, "now Hermy's gone an' filled
my cup with milk."
"Why, boy dear, so I have!" she confessed, with a rueful laugh, and her
cheeks were very pink as she rectified her mistake.
"Are you distracted too, then?" demanded Spike.
"No, I--I don't think so--no, no--of course I'm not! I--I was
just--thinking, that's all!"
"Not about tea, I reckon! Say, what's gettin' you two, anyway?"
"Arthur," said she serenely, as she passed his tea, "please fetch some
more hot water.


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