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Parrish, Randall, 1858-1923

"The Strange Case of Cavendish"

She watched them move down the long street, and turn into the
trail leading out across the purple hills. The lowering darkness
finally hid them from view. She was still at the window beginning to
regret her choice when some one rapped at the door. She arose to her
feet, and took a step or two forward, her heart beating swifter.
"Come in."
The door opened, and the light from the windows revealed Miss La Rue,
rather tastefully attired in green silk, her blond hair fluffed
artfully, and a dainty patch of black court-plaster adorning one cheek.
She stood hesitating on the threshold, her eyes searching the other's
face.
"Pardon me, please," the voice somewhat high-pitched, "but they told me
down-stairs you were from New York."
"Yes, that is my home; won't you come in?"
"Sure I will. Why I was so lonesome in this hole I simply couldn't
stand it any longer. Have you only one chair?" She glanced about, her
eyes widening. "Heavens, what a funny room! Why, I thought mine was
the limit, but it's a palace beside this. You been here long?"
"Since yesterday; take the chair, please; I am used to the bed--no,
really, I don't mind in the least.


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