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Cobb, Thomas, 1854-1932

"Enter Bridget"


"Were you also pleased, by any chance?"
"Suppose we say I was--well, dazzled," said Mark, drawing closer to her
chair.
"The simple explanation must be," returned Carrissima, with a tremor in
her voice, "that Bridget said eight, and we understood half-past seven."
"In that event we must have been dreaming!"
"But then," she suggested, "it isn't likely that two persons would
dream the same thing, is it?"
"Oh well, I'm not certain," said Mark, and he rested a hand on the arm
of her chair.
"You see, Bridget invited me when I was here last week," Carrissima
explained. "I might easily have made a blunder."
"She wrote to me," was the answer. "I have it in black and white.
There's no getting out of that."
"It must be a quarter to eight!" Carrissima suggested.
"Seventeen minutes to," said Mark, taking out his watch.
"I hope no accident has happened," suggested Carrissima, and bringing
forward a chair, he sat down close to her side. "One is reminded," she
added, "of a certain evening when Lawrence and Phoebe waited for
you--do you remember?"
"Oh dear, yes," said Mark, passing a hand over his forehead.


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