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MacGrath, Harold, 1871-1932

"Hearts and Masks"

All I am at liberty to say is that
I am about to set forth upon a desperate adventure, and I shall be very
fortunate if I do not spend the night in the lock-up."
"You do not look desperate."
"Oh, I am not desperate; it is only the adventure that is desperate."
"Some princess in durance vile? Some villain to smite? Citadels to
storm?" Her smile was enchantment itself.
I hesitated a moment. "What would you say if I told you that this
adventure was merely to prove to myself what a consummate ass the
average man can be upon occasions?"
"Why go to the trouble of proving it?"--drolly.
"I am conceited enough to have some doubts as to the degree."
"Consider it positive."
I laughed. "I am in hopes that I am neither a positive ass nor a
superlative one, only comparative."
"But the adventure; that is the thing that mainly interests me."
"Oh, that is a secret which I should hesitate to tell even to the
Sphinx."
"I see you are determined not to illuminate the darkness,"--and she
turned carelessly toward her uncle, who was serenely contemplating the
glowing end of a fat perfecto.
I bowed and passed out in Sixth Avenue, rather regretting that I had
not the pleasure of the charming young person's acquaintance.


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