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"The Guests Of Hercules"

"
"What did he tell you?"
"Not so very much. He didn't seem to want to talk about her, I thought.
That didn't surprise me, because he has an idea that women feel disgust
for him and can't bear to look at him if they can help it--all but me,
for I've convinced him that I'm really his friend. He only said that her
name was Miss Grant, and that she was very lucky at the Casino. And in
about three minutes we were at the door of this house."
"Well, I'm mighty glad you're interested in her, and that you're willing
to call."
"Willing? I'm charmed. I'll go to-morrow."
"You--you couldn't go to-day, I suppose?"
"Silly boy, it's too late. Here's tea; and here's St. George; and here
will be some of the flock presently, who generally appear on the stroke
of half-past four."
In another moment Carleton was shaking the hand of a slender, pale man
with auburn hair worn rather long, a sensitive mouth, delicate nostrils,
and beautiful, bright, hazel eyes which shone with a spiritual,
unworldly enthusiasm. He looked like one who would cheerfully have been
a martyr to his faith had he lived a few centuries earlier. And Dick
thought his cousin's simile of the high Alps not too far fetched, after
all. But there was a warm light in the beautiful eyes as they turned
upon Rose; and something in the man's smile hinted that he did not lack
a sense of humour, except when too absent-minded to bring it into play.
Dick felt happy about Rose, and happier about Miss Grant, because Rose
would go and see her.


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