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Adams, Samuel Hopkins, 1871-1958

"Success A Novel"

" She pursed her fingers upon the tip of her firm
little chin and leaned forward. "Our being seen so much together. Of
course, that's a brashly shameless thing to say. But I never have to
wear a mask for you. In that way you're a comfortable person."
"You do have to furnish a diagram, though."
"Yes? You're not usually stupid. Whether you try for it or not--and I
think there's a dash of the theatrical in your make-up--you're a
picturesque sort of animal. And I--well, I help out the picture; make
you the more conspicuous. It isn't your good looks alone--you're
handsome as the devil, you know, Ban," she twinkled at him--"nor the
super-tailored effect which you pretend to despise, nor your fame as a
gun-man, though that helps a lot.... I'll give you a bit of tea-talk:
two flappers at The Plaza. 'Who's that wonderful-looking man over by the
palm?'--'Don't you know him? Why, that's Mr. Banneker.'--'Who's he; and
what does he do? Have I seen him on the stage?'--'No, indeed! I don't
know what he does; but he's an ex-ranchman and he held off a gang of
river-pirates on a yacht, all alone, and killed eight or ten of them.
Doesn't he look it!'"
"I don't go to afternoon teas," said the subject of this sprightly
sketch, sulkily.
"You will! If you don't look out.


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