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The Riddle of the Frozen Flame by Mary E. Hanshew;Thomas W. Hanshew
page 21 of 237 (08%)
strides and in the next second was holding Antoinette's hand rather
longer than was necessary, and was looking down into the rouguish
greeny-gray eyes that had captivated him only yesterday, when for one
terrible, glorious moment he had held her in his arms, while the railroad
coach dissolved around them.

"Are you fit to be about?" he said, his voice ringing with the very
evident pleasure that he felt at this meeting with her, and his eyes
wandering to where a strip of pink court plaster upon her forehead showed
faintly through the screen of hair that covered it. Then he dropped her
hand and turned toward the man who stood a pace or two behind her tiny
figure, looking at him with the bluest, youngest eyes he had ever looked
into.

"Mr. Brellier, is it not? Very good of you, sir, to come across in this
neighbourly fashion. Won't you sit down?"

"Yes," said Antoinette, gaily, "my uncle. I brought him right over by
telling him of our adventure."

The man was tall and heavily built, with a wealth of black hair thickly
streaked with gray, and a trim, well-kept "imperial" which gave him the
foreign air that his name carried out so well. His morning suit was
extremely well cut, and his whole bearing that of the well-to-do man
about town. Merriton registered all this in his mind's eye, and was
secretly very glad of it. They were two thoroughbreds--that was easy to
see.

And as for Antoinette! Well, he could barely keep his eyes from her.
She was lovelier than ever, and clad this afternoon in all the fluffy
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