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Farnol, Jeffery, 1878-1952

"The Definite Object A Romance of New York"

"Her body?" said he, staring. "Well, since you ask,
I should say it is like her soul--very sweet and white and--"
"Sure!" nodded Mrs. Trapes, "but, bein' only flesh an' blood after
all--bein' only miserable clay like yours an' mine, Mr. Geoffrey, it'll
always need food t' nourish it, clo'es t' keep it warm, an' a roof t'
shelter it. Well, if she was t' be s' mad as t' marry a peanut man, what
about food an' clo'es an' a roof?"
"I think they could be managed, Mrs. Trapes."
"What--out o' peanuts?"
"No--er--the fact is, I've given 'em up."
Mrs. Trapes sniffed. "Y' don't say!" she remarked drily. "Think o' that,
now!"
"The fact is, Mrs. Trapes, I--well, suppose I were to confess to you
that I'm not quite so poor as I seem--what should you say?"
"Why, I should say as I knew that about three weeks ago, Mr. Geoffrey."
"Oh, did you?" said Ravenslee, staring. "How in the world did you find
out?"
"Why, Mr. Geoffrey, I'll tell ye how. I got eyes an' I got ears, an'
sometimes I can see a bit with my eyes an' hear with my ears--that's
how! Oh, I've watched ye, Mr.


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