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Ford, Paul Leicester, 1865-1902

"The Honorable Peter Stirling and What People Thought of Him"

I don't feel like it this morning," said Leonore.
As Watts left the hall, a servant entered it.
"I had to wait, Miss D'Alloi," he said. "No papers are for sale till
eight o'clock."
Leonore took the newspaper silently and went to the library. Then she
opened it and looked at the first column. She read it hurriedly.
"I knew he wasn't hurt," she said, "because I would have felt it, and
because he had my luck piece." Then she stepped out of one of the
windows, called Betise to her, and putting her arms about his neck,
kissed him.
When the New York papers came things were even better, for they recorded
the end of the strike. Leonore even laughed over that big, big D. "I
can't imagine him getting so angry," she said "He must have a temper,
after all." She sang a little, as she fixed the flowers in the vases,
and one of the songs was "Happiness." Nor did she snub a man who hinted
at afternoon tea, as she had a poor unfortunate who suggested tennis
earlier in the day.
While they were sipping their tea, however, Watts came in from the club.


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