loreley's

Updated: June 23, 2025

At 9 o'clock the President, Kid Mullaly, paced upon the floor with a lady on his arm. As the Loreley's was her hair golden. Her "yes" was softened to a "yah," but its quality of assent was patent to the most Milesian ears. She stepped upon her own train and blushed, and she smiled into the eyes of Kid Mullaly.

O. Henry - The Trimmed Lamp, and other Stories of the Four Million