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MacGrath, Harold, 1871-1932

"Half a Rogue"

Patty! It
was a very beautiful world, and this was a day of days. It all came to
him in that moment of discovery. He had drifted along toward it quite
unconsciously, as a river might idle toward the sea. Patty! The light
of this knowledge was blinding for a space. So Warrington came into
his own romance. It was not the grand passion, which is always
meteoric; it was rather like a new star, radiant, peaceful, eternal.
"Patty!" He smiled.


Chapter X

It was only when the whistle of the returning boat sounded close by
that he realized he had been sitting there for nearly an hour. He
roused himself, sealed and addressed his letter to the senator, and
hurried down to the dock. Patty was alone, mending some tackle.
"It must be a long letter," she remarked, standing up and shaking her
skirts.
"Why, this is only the beginning of it," he replied ambiguously. "It
is never going to end."
"Mercy! It must be a postscript."
He had no retort handy, so he contented himself with watching the
approach of the boat.
"Some men are never satisfied," she said owlishly. "If I were a
successful dramatist, such as you are, a public office would look
rather tawdry.


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