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Cullum, Ridgwell, [pseud.], 1867-1943

"The Forfeit"

"
Bud laughed at the rapid flow of the girl's banter. But he had by no
means forgotten his own concern.
"But, say, Nan, you hain't got time for foolin' around. You surely
hain't. It's haf after five, an' we're due at the City Hall seven,
sharp. Y'see, you ain't like us fellers who don't need no fixin' to
speak of. An' you're helpin' us to receive the folks----"
Nan's delighted laugh rippled through the pleasant room.
"Oh, my Daddy," she cried, with wide, accusing eyes, "you're the best
laugh in a month." Then she held up one admonishing finger before her
dancing eyes. "Now the truth. What was the minute you started to make
yourself--pretty?"
She sat herself upon a table before him with the evident purpose of
enjoying to the full the delighted feelings of the moment.
Bud eyed her steadily. He knew he was to be cornered. Nor would it be
for the first time. The relation between these two was that of a
delightful companionship in which the frequent measuring of wit held no
inconsiderable place amidst a deep abiding affection.


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