Throw that rubbish into the fire for me, will you?" she
continued, pointing to a pile of torn-up letters and printed matter, "and
draw up two chairs in front of the fire. I'll join you in a minute."
He obeyed, then stood watching her as she straightened out her silver
desk fixtures, gravely putting everything in perfect order before she
turned to him.
"What a beau cavalier you have become," she said, smiling again, as he
drew back to let her pass in front of him, and turned her chair to an
angle at which the fire could not scorch her face; "what's become of the
old Austin? I can't seem to find him at all!"
"Oh, I left him in the woods the night of the fire, I hope," returned
Austin, laughing, "while you were asleep. I'm sure neither you nor any
one else wants him back."
Sylvia settled herself comfortably, and smoothed out the folds of her
dull-black silk dress. "Wouldn't you like to smoke?" she asked; "it's
an awfully comfortable feeling--to watch a man smoking, in front of an
open fire!"
"I'd love to, if you're sure you don't mind.
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