The Golden Fleece, a romance by Julian Hawthorne
page 32 of 166 (19%)
page 32 of 166 (19%)
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"You have some acquaintances in California, I suppose?" she said, with an air of laborious indifference. "Well,--yes; I believe I have," Freeman admitted. "Have they lived there long?" "No; not over a few months. I accidentally heard from a person in Panama. I dropped a line to say I might turn up." "She----you haven't had time to get an answer, then?" Freeman inhaled a deep breath through his cigarette, tilted his head back, and allowed the smoke to escape slowly through his nostrils. In this manner, familiar to his deep-designing sex, he concealed a smile. Grace was, in some respects, as transparent as she was subtle. So long as the matter in hand did not touch her emotions, she had no difficulty in maintaining a deceptive surface; but emotion she could not disguise, though she was probably not aware of the fact; for emotion has a tendency to shut one's own eyes and open what they can no longer see |
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