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Smith, Francis Hopkinson, 1838-1915

"Peter: a novel of which he is not the hero"

"I had such a good time yesterday, dear aunt Felicia, and--
Why!--it is you, Mr. Breen, and have you come to tell aunty the
same thing? Wasn't it lovely?"
Then Jack said that it was lovely, and that he hadn't come for any
such purpose--then that he had--and then Peter patted her hand and
told her she was the prettiest thing he had ever seen in all his
life, and that he was going to throw overboard all his other
sweethearts at once and cleave to her alone; and Miss Felicia
vowed that she was the life of the party; and Jack devoured her
with his eyes, his heart thumping away at high pressure; and so
the moments fled until the blithesome young girl, saying she had
not a minute to spare, as she had to meet her father, who would
not wait, readjusted her wraps, kissed Miss Felicia on both
cheeks, sent another flying through the air toward Peter from the
tips of her fingers, and with Jack as escort--he also had to see a
friend who would not wait a minute--danced out of the room and so
on down to the street.
The Scribe will not follow them very far in their walk uptown.


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