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Thurston, Katherine Cecil, 1875-1911

"The Masquerader"

I'd
be with you every hour of the twelve if I had my way."
She looked up at the bare trees. Her expression was a
delightful mixture of amusement, satisfaction, and scepticism.
"Then you will dine?" she said at last.
"Certainly." His reaction to high spirits carried him
forward.
"How nice! Shall we fix a day?"
"A day? Yes. Yes--if you like." He hesitated for an
instant, then again the impulse of the previous moment
dominated his other feeling. "Yes," he said, quickly. "Yes.
After all, why not fix it now?" With a sudden inclination
towards amiability he opened his overcoat, thrust his hand
into an inner pocket, and drew out his engagement-book--the
same long, narrow book fitted with two pencils that Loder had
scanned so interestedly on his first morning at Grosvenor
Square. He opened it, turning the pages rapidly. "What day
shall it be? Thursday's full--and Friday--and Saturday. What
a bore!" He still talked fast.
Lillian leaned across. "What a sweet book!" she said. "But
why the blue crosses?" She touched one of the pages with her
gloved finger.


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