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Harrison, Henry Sydnor, 1880-1930

"Queed"

Surface had stripped of her fortune. Well, well!
"Ah, yes, I recall you now."
She thought there was an inimical note in his voice, and to pay him for
it, she said with a final smiling nod: "Oh, I am _so_ pleased!"
Her little sarcasm passed miles over his head. She had touched the
spring of the automatic card-index system known as his memory and the
ingenious machinery worked on. Presently it pushed out and laid before
him the complete record, neatly ticketed and arranged, the full dossier,
of all that had passed between him and the girl. But she was nearly
through the door before he had decided to say:
"I had another letter from my father last night."
"Oh!" she said, turning at once--"_Did_ you!"
He nodded, gloomily. "However, there was not a cent of money in it."
If he had racked his brains for a subject calculated to detain
her--which we may rely upon it that he did not do--he could not have hit
upon a surer one. Sharlee Weyland had a great fund of pity for this
young man's worse than fatherlessness, and did not in the least mind
showing it. She came straight back into the room and up to the table
where he sat.


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