. The Saturday evening post. y smile. he demanded, just by way Where are the other two?of making talk. The other two? echoed the charming Miss Brewster,with a very musical inflection of her voice. Girls, nodded Old Bill. Oh, didnt you know? returned Miggie, with a toss ofher fine head. They dropped out—moons ago. Toomuch work—got tired. Im whats left. Im the ThreeGirls Guild. I didnt know, said Old Bill. And I dont know, went on his the shadowof a doubt present in her voice and manner, that I know—you. You dont, replied Old Bill swiftly, those bashfuleyes of his pleading with her
. The Saturday evening post. y smile. he demanded, just by way Where are the other two?of making talk. The other two? echoed the charming Miss Brewster,with a very musical inflection of her voice. Girls, nodded Old Bill. Oh, didnt you know? returned Miggie, with a toss ofher fine head. They dropped out—moons ago. Toomuch work—got tired. Im whats left. Im the ThreeGirls Guild. I didnt know, said Old Bill. And I dont know, went on his the shadowof a doubt present in her voice and manner, that I know—you. You dont, replied Old Bill swiftly, those bashfuleyes of his pleading with her all the time. Fact is, Imhere under false pretenses. My name is Olds. The girls flush deepened slightly. Oh, she cried, holding out her hand, the tinge of warmwelcome in her tone, you belong to Warren Olds. You mean W. G. Olds? queried Old Bill. The girl nodded, but Old Bill only shook his head. I dont belong to anybody, he con-fessed, and the invitation that you sentto him—it came to me by mistake, andthere you
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