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Show mi nne i in iim 11 Wrecked Romance. Maxwell was nearly an hour late. I wandered Impatiently around the lobby, and when another page failed to llnd him I entered tho telephone booth to make an attempt at reaching him. On tho pad In front of tho instrument instru-ment waB written, "Call Plaza ." Suddenly a wild, delirious impulse seized mo. I would call up tho number num-ber and seo what happened. . "Give mo Pfaza ." Tho Hud buzzed a moment, was silent si-lent and then I heard a soft "Hollo." Such a voice! Clear as tho song of tho nightingale; as soft as a bab-bUng bab-bUng brook, limpid and tender. It was vibrantly, breathlessly eager, and yet thero eeoraod to bo a noto of suppressed sup-pressed anxiety and emotion. "Hello," I answered, nnd then tentatively. ten-tatively. "It's good to hoar your vblce again." But the Batne glorious, musical note camo floating back: "Soft pedal and ten cents, please, boforo I givo you your number." And then the awful, awful truth was out. Tho pompadoured, gum-chewing hotel operator had tho volco. Exchange. |