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MacGrath, Harold, 1871-1932

"Arms and the Woman"

Then he looked at me, but I was gazing at Phyllis. He was
in a puzzle.
"Do you know, Miss Landors," he said, "that I never dreamed to meet you
again when I saw you in Vienna last year?"
"Vienna?" said she. "I have never been to Vienna."
I suddenly brought down my heel on Pembroke's toes.
"Ah, a curious mistake on my part. I suppose the ball at the ministry
to-night will be your first on the continent?"
I gazed admiringly at him. He had not even looked at me. He was
certainly clever.
"Yes," said Phyllis, "and already I believe I am going to have what
they call stage fright, though I cannot understand why I should feel
that way."
"Possibly it's a premonition," said I, absently.
"And of what?" asked Phyllis.
"How should I know?" said I, mysteriously.
"What in the world is going on?" she demanded. "You step on Mr.
Pembroke's toes, you prophesy, and then you grow mysterious."
My glance and Pembroke's met. He burst out laughing. A possible
contretemps was averted by the approach of Mrs. Wentworth, who asked us
to have a cup of chocolate before we went out into the chill air.


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