"Yes. He is coming back to Herculaneum to live."
"That is news to me." The actress stirred her coffee and smiled at
Patty. "I understand you've been riding together. He is really a
splendid horseman."
"He has the dearest old dog," replied Patty.
The day passed quickly for all concerned: the dinner and box-party
left nothing to be desired.
The wedding-breakfast would have provoked envy in the heart of
Lucullus; for Warrington was a man of the world, thoroughly polished;
there was nothing Stoic about him (though, in the early days he had
been a disciple of this cult perforce); he was a thoroughgoing epicure.
Patty was delighted. Warrington guided her about the rooms on a tour
of inspection. He pointed out all the curios and told the history of
each. But the desk was the article which interested her most.
"And this is where you write? Upon this desk plays have grown up?
Won't you give me a single sheet of manuscript to take home with me?"
"I certainly shall."
He pulled out a drawer and found some old manuscript. He selected a
sheet, signed it, and gave it to her.
"I am rich!" the girl exclaimed.
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