The Voice in the Fog by Harold MacGrath
page 4 of 162 (02%)
page 4 of 162 (02%)
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and whistles and sirens and rumbling engines!
"It's hard luck," said Crawford, sympathetically. "It will be half an hour before they get this tangle straightened out." "I shouldn't mind, Jim, if it weren't for Kitty," replied his wife. "I am worried about her." "Well, I simply could not drag her into this coupé and get into hers myself. She's a heady little lady, if you want to know. As it is, she'll get back to the hotel quicker than we shall. Her cab is five up. If you wish, I'll take a look in and see if she's all right." "Please do;" and she smiled at him, lovely, enchanting. "You're the most beautiful woman in all this world!" "Am I?" Click! The light went out. There was a smothered laugh; and when the light flared up again, the aigrette in her copper-beech hair was all askew. "If anybody saw us!"--secretly pleased and delighted, as any woman would have been who possessed a husband who was her lover all his waking hours. "What! in this fog? And a lot I'd care if they did. Now, don't stir till I come back; and above all, keep the light on." |
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