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Show Hi Lost A Secretary laughed. Helen . Anstey Usually shared his mirth, but -just now she was rolling, and unrolling her handr kerchief, under the shelter of her typewriting table as - nervously as a country school girl. . " es, I have been thinking, " Mr: Phillips, that now your friends are here perhaps vou might spare me for a few days in town. A few days on "Ripping sort of girl Don has for secretary." drawled - a masculine voice, whose owner - was evidently lounging on the piazza. "Yes, .burymsr one s self in the country coun-try to become the novelist of the hour is not half bad with such an -amanuensis in attendance." . . v.-.. , "But .. what I cannot understand," continued the first- speaker, "is how a girl of that tvpe can endure country life in winter. With that hair and those eyes any manager would jump at the chance to put her in the front row of the chorus, and she d be the rage in no time." "And girls with that hair and those eyes are generally looking for higher game. Prpbably she knows all about Don's substantial bank account, his i social position and the law of pro- pinquity." "I say, you fellows,"., sang out a third voice, "there's an hour or so before luncheon, and I'm in the mood (or golf. Come along." The two men on the porch swung themselves over the low railing and disappeared with their host in the direction di-rection of the links. Silence reigned for a moment or so, the soft, tender silence of an ideal spring morning. Then a long-drawn, quivering sigh broke the stillness. A tall, graceful figure was framed in the French window. win-dow. The face beneath its aureole of copper-colored hair was very white, and her hands were tensely clasped around a roll of paper. . : "What chance has a woman tobe Sank back into his big library chair with a sigh of relief the links will do you no ha I |