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Updated: May 25, 2025
Ah, 'tis deep fathims under the Savonarola, me lad " Bedient had not been listening for a moment. A carometa was moving slowly toward him, down the Calle Real, and he fancied the flutter of a handkerchief from its side window. It was nearly noon. The dazzle of sunlight upon the glass of the carometa was in his eyes, so he could not see the face within, but a slim hand signaled again.
The vehicle approached with torturing slowness until the dazzle nickered out and he hurried forward to greet Miss Mallory, whose face blanched at the sight of him. "You look as if you would fall!" she whispered. "But I'm so glad to see you again " "I was just going to say it.... It's been dull and I haven't done " He opened the door of the carometa.
It is not men alone who love to venture and venture to love!" Bedient was ascending Calle Real once more, when his cheek was flicked by a tiny wad of paper which fell at his feet. A carometa was toiling up the slope from the water-front. He observed Miss Mallory's profile in the seat.
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