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It was barred from the public library of Burlington, Iowa, and a Mid-Western columnist announced by innuendo that Richard Caramel was in a sanitarium with delirium tremens. The author, indeed, spent his days in a state of pleasant madness.

She's beautiful inside and out mind, I've nursed her in these arms years ago an' I know she's oh, well, you ought to meet Hermy!" "Mrs. Trapes, I have!" "Eh? You have? My lan'!" Mrs. Trapes bolted a caramel in her astonishment and thereafter stared at Ravenslee with watering eyes. "An' you to set there an' never tell me!" quoth she, "an' Hermy never told me well, well! When did ye meet her?

According to my notion of thinking, Faith's caramel cakes beat her others all hollow." "But but the caramel cakes haven't any red candy roses and green leaves on them," stammered Peace. "They don't need them," said Mrs. Grinnell, scornfully.

Miss Tyler placed herself amid French revolutionary surroundings, and was seen as a remarkable "romantic" French woman, with a strong American accent and an emphatic New York manner. She fluttered through Paris in 1793, evidently convinced that it was just as "easy" as New York in 1905. She had a caramel demeanor and ice-cream allurements.

"Oh, that's different," Dick asserted astoundingly. "I have a reputation, you see, so I'm expected to deal with strong themes." Anthony gave an interior start, realizing with this remark how much Richard Caramel had fallen off. Did he actually think that these amazing latter productions were as good as his first novel? Anthony went back to the apartment and set to work.

Should you choose the caramel, you'd feel sure you was doin' the wise thing, wouldn't you?" Robert Morton smiled into the half-closed blue eyes that met his so whimsically. "But along in the next tray to the caramel," Willie went on, "was bonbons every color of the rainbow they were, an' pretty as could be; an' they held all sorts of surprises inside 'em, too.

Put in a wineglass of whiskey or brandy, then add three cups and a half flour sifted three times with a heaping teaspoonful baking powder. Put the light and dark batter by alternate spoonfuls in pans well buttered and papered, let rise and bake the same as spice cake. Else bake the light and dark batter in layers, put together with any good filling, and frost with caramel frosting.

The men, except Richard Caramel, drank freely; Gloria and Muriel sipped a glass apiece; Rachael Jerryl took none. They sat out the waltzes but danced to everything else all except Gloria, who seemed to tire after a while and preferred to sit smoking at the table, her eyes now lazy, now eager, according to whether she listened to Bloeckman or watched a pretty woman among the dancers.

Richard Caramel remembered this he had remembered it well for seven years. "What time will I expect you back?" asked Anthony. "We won't come back," she answered, "we'll meet you down there at four." "All right," he muttered, "I'll meet you." Up-stairs he found a letter waiting for him.

Anthony Patch walked away in a sudden fit of depression, pondering the bitterness of such survivals. There was nothing, it seemed, that grew stale so soon as pleasure. On Forty-second Street one afternoon he met Richard Caramel for the first time in many months, a prosperous, fattening Richard Caramel, whose face was filling out to match the Bostonian brow. "Just got in this week from the coast.