Page:The Sick-A-Bed Lady.djvu/253

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THE AMATEUR LOVER

little songs, till her shuddering sobs soothed them selves oh, so slowly into lazy, languid, bashful little smiles, and the lazy, languid, bashful little smiles droned off at last into nestling, con tented little sighs, and the nestling, contented little sighs blossomed all of a sudden into merciful, peace ful slumber.

Then, when the warm, gray June dawn was just beginning to flush across the roofs of the city, he put her softly down and slipped away, and took his smallest military brushes, and his smallest dressing- gown, and his smallest slippers, and carried them out to his diminutive guest-room. "It is n't a very big little guest-room," he mused disconsolately, "but then, she is n't a very big little guest. It will hold her, I guess, as long as she s willing to stay."

"As long as she's willing to stay." The phrase puckered his lips. Again Aleck Reese's face flashed before him in all its amazing beauty and magical pathos, a face this time staring across a tiny, ornate cafe table into the jaded, world-wise eyes of some gorgeous woman of the theatrical demi-monde. At the vision Drew's shoulders squared suddenly as though for a fair fight to the finish, and then wilted down with equal abruptness as his eyes met acci dentally in the mirror his own plain, matter-of-fact reflection. The sight fairly mocked him. There

was no beauty there. No magie. No brilliance.

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