Mary Marie by Eleanor H. (Eleanor Hodgman) Porter
page 202 of 253 (79%)
page 202 of 253 (79%)
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I've got _you_."
Then he began to talk and tell stories, just as if I was a young lady to be entertained. And he took me over to where they had things to eat, and just heaped my plate with chicken patties and sandwiches and olives and pink-and-white frosted cakes and ice-cream (not all at once, of course, but in order). And I had a perfectly beautiful time. And Father seemed to like it pretty well. But after a while he grew sober again, and his eyes began to rove all around the room. He took me to a little seat in the corner then, and we sat down and began to talk--only Father didn't talk much. He just listened to what I said, and his eyes grew deeper and darker and sadder, and they didn't rove around so much, after a time, but just stared fixedly at nothing, away out across the room. By and by he stirred and drew a long sigh, and said, almost under his breath: "It was just such another night as this." And of course, I asked what was--and then I knew, almost before he had told me. "That I first saw your mother, my dear." "Oh, yes, I know!" I cried, eager to tell him that I _did_ know. "And she must have looked lovely in that perfectly beautiful blue silk dress all silver lace." He turned and stared at me. |
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