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Harte, Bret, 1836-1902

"A Sappho of Green Springs"


"Look here," said Rushbrook, "you'll meet a man here to-night--or he'll
be sure to meet YOU--who'll tell you all about Rushbrook. He's a smart
chap, knows everybody and talks well. His name is Jack Somers; he is
a great ladies' man. He can talk to you about these sort of things,
too,"--indicating the furniture with a half tolerant, half contemptuous
gesture, that struck her as inconsistent with what seemed to be his
previous interest,--"just as well as he can talk of people. Been in
Europe, too."
The young girl's eye brightened with a quick vivacity at the name, but a
moment after became reflective and slightly embarrassed. "I know him--I
met him at Mr. Leyton's. He has already talked of Mr. Rushbrook, but,"
she added, avoiding any conclusion, with a pretty pout, "I'd like
to have the opinion of others. Yours, now, I fancy would be quite
independent."
"You stick to what Jack Somers has said, good or bad, and you won't
be far wrong," he said assuringly. He stopped; his quick ear had heard
approaching voices; he returned to her and held out his hand.


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