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Oemler, Marie Conway, 1879-1932

"A Woman Named Smith"


"It rather looks like flying in the face of Providence not to," he
warned me. "In the meantime--"
"In the meantime, let us be grateful Alicia didn't put the notion
into your head to ask somebody who might have taken you seriously."
"That means you don't, and won't." He drew a long breath. "But
we're good friends; aren't we, Sophy?"
"If a man never does anything worse than ask a woman to marry him,
he will probably retain her friendship until she dies," I replied.
"Provided she refuses him," the doctor said, gratefully. And bending
down, he kissed me brotherly on the cheek, an honest and resounding
smack; at which opportune moment Alicia walked in.
Wholly unabashed, the doctor spoke pleasantly to Alicia, shook hands
with me effusively, and went off whistling. All was right with the
world. I'd refused him, you understand! Instead of being enraged and
offended, I found myself giggling.
That night, as Alicia didn't come in my room, I went into hers.
"I know what you've come to tell me, Sophy dear," she said,
directly. "I've seen it for some time. And I'm glad as glad--glad
with all my heart, Sophy." Her voice was tenderness itself, her eyes
melted.


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