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Webster, Henry Kitchell, 1875-1932

"The Real Adventure"

But in spite of this he found Rose rather splendidly
gowned for her expected guests.
"Good gracious!" he cried excitedly. "What did you do that for? I
thought I told you over the phone the Lakes weren't going to dress."
"I was--dressed like this when you telephoned," Rose said. "And I was
afraid there wouldn't be time to change into anything else."
"We weren't going anywhere, were we?" he asked. "There's nothing I've
forgotten?"
"No," she said, "we weren't going anywhere."
"And you dressed like that just for a--treat for me?"
She nodded. "Just for you," she said. "Roddy, who are the Lakes? Oh, I
know his articles, I think! But where were they friends of yours, and
when?"
"Why, for years, until they moved to New York. They used to live here. I
know I must have told you about them. I was always having dinner with
them--either out in Rogers Park, where they lived, or at queer, terrible
little restaurants down-town. They were always game to try anything,
once. He's the longest, leanest, angularest, absent-mindedest chap in
the world.


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