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Webster, Henry Kitchell, 1875-1932

"The Real Adventure"


He stayed that first evening a little less than an hour, and when he got
up to go, she made no effort to detain him. The thing had been, as its
unbroken surface could testify, a highly successful first call. Before
she let him go, though, she asked him how long he was going to be in New
York, and on getting a very indeterminate answer that offered a minimum
of "two or three days" and a maximum that could not even be guessed at,
she said:
"I hope you're not going to be too dreadfully busy for us to see a lot
of each other. I wish we might manage it once every day."
That shook him; for a moment, she thought the lightning was going to
strike and stood very still holding her breath, waiting for it.
But he steadied himself, said he could certainly manage that if she
could, and as the elevator came up in response to her ring, said that he
would call her up in the morning at her office.
She puzzled a little during the intermittent processes of undressing,
over why she had let him go like that.


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