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McCutcheon, George Barr, 1866-1928

"The Prince of Graustark"

The exquisite features of Miss Guile were barely
distinguishable beneath the surface of this filmy barrier. The door
closed sharply and, almost before the Prince had recovered from his
surprise, the car glided off in the direction of the Place de
l'Opera.
"Isn't it just like an elopement?" cried Miss Guile, and it was quite
plain to him that she was vastly pleased with the sprightly
introduction to the adventure. Her voice trembled slightly and she
sat up very straight in the wide, comfortable seat.
"Is it really you?" cried Robin, and he was surprised to find that
his own voice trembled.
"Oh," she said, with a sudden diffidence, "how do you do? What must
you think of me, bouncing in like that and never once speaking to
you?"
"If I were to tell you what I think of you, you'd bounce right out
again without speaking to me," said he, smiling. "How do you do?" He
extended his hand, but it was ignored. She sank back into the corner
and looked at him for a moment as if uncertain what to say or do
next. The shadowy red lips were smiling and the big dark eyes were
eloquent, even through the screen.


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