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Show A MAN, AyWOtylANNp APAJASOL. "There would be rto excuse for you," he remarked, re-marked, "If you hadn't such a brute of a Tms-band." Tms-band." ".'.' "Oh, I wouldn't say that," she remonstrated, feebly, as she idly twirled the ivory tip ofher parasol over the moist sand. ' J''' "A brute, a positive brute!" he reiterated, steadily looking seaward in order to avoid her slightly reproachful gaze. "Let us say a trifle difficult and er romantic," roman-tic," she suggested. "Romantic! You don't dignify that asinine episode by the name of romance, do you? Bj-Jove! Bj-Jove! No wonder, you flirt a bit. Who could blame you, with a husband doing a fool quickstep quick-step at the heels of a shallow, sallow little widow, while the best, the most beautiful, the dearest woman in the world " He turned to her, and would have grasped the two small trembling hands, but just at that moment mo-ment she found it convenient to close the pink parasol. It obscured her for a moment from his view, and the P grazed his nose. "So you think that excuses me?" she asked, -innocently, ignoring his injured look. "For what?" sioJomjyky' for my flirtations, as you call them." "As I call them? Aren't they just flirtations, then?" He faced about, looking ai her with a new light In his eyes. "Don't ask silly questions," she said, rather tremulously, pressing the soft folds of" the parasol para-sol caressingly against her lovely throat and cheek. He looked at the sunshade enviously; at her, hungrily. The delicate pink of her skin was enhanced en-hanced by the soft glow of the silk; a golden brown tendril of hair wafted tantalizingly and seductively on the warm summer air; her red moist lips had taken on the old mischievous curve. He braced himself to resist, trying to persuade his soul that it was not conscious of and sick with longing for all ' that irresistible sweetness. Suddenly the parasol fell to the sands; he had grasped her hands roughly. "Tell me! Tell me! I have a right to know. Was it this last one more than a flirtation?" Her eyes fell before his searching gaze. "Yes," she said, at length, "it was more;" and then, frightened by something in his eyes, she added, hastily, "It was a homoeopathic cure." "Don't jest,' he said, hoarsely, half rising. "It is not a jest," she said, with a sudden softening of voice. "I thought I was losing you, Tom, and I chose the surest way to bring you back." A wonderful light of hope transfigured his face. "You forgive me?" he. stammered. "Perhaps." ""And you didn't mean what you said about the divorce?" "I did mean it then, but now oh, don't, please! They can see us from the hotel ' "Well, I presume a man can kiss his own wife, but If you don't want them to see us, just put up your parasol." And she did! The Beachcomber in Town Top-, ics. " ' |