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Updated: June 15, 2025
Her eyes were flaming and her lips were white with fury, though she continued to smile. "Here! What d'you mean by that?" he cried. She silenced him sharply: "Hush! Remember you broke in here. I'd like to see you in that fountain." There was a swish of garments, a musical laugh, and Adoree Demorest was between them. "I'm madly jealous, Senor Roberto," she exclaimed.
"And they will be sitting by the fire, and I who was going to spend the night at the Duke of Cumberland's will appear, and after we have embraced, hey, presto I produce you Diana his adorée my daughter." "Sir," she said, "you are crowding me." "Sacré nom d'une pipe I beg your pardon, madame, but you must not push that box.
A battered tea-kettle was set to boil over an absurd alcohol-stove that required expert assistance to maintain its equilibrium. Adoree flung out of her finery and donned a Japanese robe, offering another to Lorelei. A plate of limber crackers was unearthed from somewhere, also the disreputable remains of a box of marshmallows; and these latter Madamoiselle Demorest toasted on a hat-pin.
Me for a home- cooked dinner. Here's an unabridged cluster of orchids for Mrs. Wharton, too. If I'd had time I'd have brought you a hanging-lamp or a plush album decorated with sea-shells." He entered the living-room with a hand extended and a smile upon his lips, then halted as if frozen. By the time he had been introduced to Adoree he had burst into a gentle perspiration.
They never had an ache or a pain. What do you know about ducks?" Adoree answered in a tone of calm and utter certainty: "I know everything. I've read hundreds, maybe thousands of duck books. I have a whole library of them." "A duck library. I thought so. But did you ever own a library of ducks? There's a difference. A man doesn't have to know anything to write a book I've done it myself.
"I'd be delighted," she falsified, and, gurgling with appreciation, Miss Demorest hurried her toward the nearest exit. In the street, however, Adoree paused, and her next words showed that she was not wanting in womanly intuition. "I sha'n't inflict you with a ride in that circus-wagon. It's all right for me, but you're one of the decent kind.
"You say she's staying here with you?" "I didn't say so, but she is." "Doesn't she care for Bob any more?" "Y-yes! At first she was furious, but we've talked a good deal, and I think she does care away down underneath. She may not know it herself, but she does, especially now that " "What?" asked Pope, as Adoree hesitated and flushed. "Nothing! But she won't go back.
"Oh, Véronique, I have not got a cold; I am only wildly happy," I said. "Mademoiselle is doubtless fiancée to Mr. Carruthers. Oh, mon enfant adorée," she cried, "que je suis contente!" "Gracious, no!" I exclaimed. This brought me back to Christopher with a start. What would he say when he heard? "No, Véronique, to some one much nicer Lord Robert Vavasour."
First the father had been crippled, then the moral fiber of the whole family had disintegrated until the mother had become a harpy, the brother a scamp, and she, Lorelei, a shameless hunter of men. Now the home tie, that last bond of respectability, was to be broken. Her first impulse was to take up her abode with Adoree Demorest, but a little thought showed the inadvisability of that.
She was surprised when Adoree brought Campbell Pope home with her that night, and she was somewhat diverted by the complete change in their mutual attitude. Now that the first clash was over, now that they had expressed their dislike and disapproval of each other, they no longer quarreled. Pope was frankly admiring, and Adoree could not conceal her awe at Campbell's literary and musical ability.
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