an aged colored psychic lady had once informed her, to address to a gent with salivated whiskers.
“Come with me,” said the stranger, for such he appeared to be, “I feel that you are to bring a great rectangular blessing into my life—it will be a debt I can never repay—I shall not even try to. For such as you I have long longed, longing.”
And he was right. To meet a girl at once rich and foolish—what man can have a greater ambition!
Once in the garlic atmosphere of Madison Square, however, amongst the tulips and bootblacks, his tone dropped several stitches. He seemed much colder. But then, not only was he sitting on a stone bench, but he was still guilty of wearing summer underwear. He looked her sternly in the hair.
“Woman,” he said, at last, “I cannot marry you. You smoke!”
In vain Angie denied it. It was only steam, she protested, that was coming from her mouth in the cold air. And on her fingers the yellow stains were merely bilious.
Frowning he shook his teeth and pointed to the curl athwart her brow. “Why, your
