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Locke, William John, 1863-1930

"Viviette"

"
She started up. "Look," she cried gaily. "Oh, Dick! I'll never marry you
till you have the common decency to look at me--never! never! never! I
dressed myself this beautiful morning just to please you. Oh, Dick!
Dick, you've lost such a chance."
She stood with her hands behind her back regarding him mockingly, as Eve
in the first orchard must have regarded Adam when he was more dull and
masculine than usual--when, for instance, she had attired herself in
hybiscus flowers which he took for the hum-drum, everyday fig-leaves.
"I'm a born duffer," said Dick pathetically. "But your face is all that
I see when I look at you."
"That's all very pretty," she retorted. "But you ought to see more. Now
let us talk sense. Mind, if I sit on that bench again you're to
talk sense."
Dick sighed. "Very well," said he.
That was the history of all his love-making. She drew him on to
passionate utterance, and then, with a twist of her wit and a twirl of
her skirts, she eluded him. When she had thus put herself out of his
reach, he felt ashamed.


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