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Smith, Francis Hopkinson, 1838-1915

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


Miss Felicia leaned over the banisters:
"Peter, PETER," she called after him, "where are you going?"
"To stay all night with Jack."
"Well, that's the most sensible thing I have heard of yet. Will
you take him a message from me?"
Peter looked up: "Yes, Felicia, what is it?"
"Give him my love."


CHAPTER XVI


Miss Felicia kept her promise to Ruth. Before that young woman,
indeed, tired out with anxiety, had opened her beautiful eyes the
next morning and pushed back her beautiful hair from her beautiful
face--and it was still beautiful, despite all the storms it had
met and weathered, the energetic, old lady had presented herself
at the front door of Mrs. Hicks's Boarding Hotel (it was but a
step from MacFarlane's) and had sent her name to the young man in
the third floor back.
A stout person, with a head of adjustable hair held in place by a
band of black velvet skewered by a gold pin, the whole surmounted
by a flaring mob-cap of various hues and dyes, looked Miss Felicia
all over and replied in a dubious tone:
"He's had a bad mash-up, and I don't think--"
"I am quite aware of it, my dear madam, or I would not be here.


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