Spurling, drily. " "Mr. The lonely widows of robber barons found him irresistible and he was the guest of many a fine table. However, I'd rather have a blow from the daughter than the mother. The small grey feathers of her exquisitely shaped fan waved gently backwards and forwards. His heart beat wildly and he was afraid lest the strain be too much; but the girl shook her head and smiled and pointed to the top of the mountain. " "Perhaps so," rejoined the stranger; "but I have others in reserve, not so generally known. “Why—it’s—it’s you!” Amazement seemed to dry up the torrents of his speech.
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