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Show Pretty Girl Had Reached The Age of Discretion It was long after midnight in the home of the famous author. He looked haggard and worn, for he had been working on a novel. "Darling," called his wife, "are' you coming to bed?" "No, I'm not," muttered the author. "I've got the pretty girl in the clutches of the villain and I want to get her out." "How old is the girl?" asked the wife. "She's twenty-three," informed the writer. "Then for goodness sakes put out the lights and come to bed," snapped the weary wife. "She's certainly old enough to take care of herself!" |