"I loved John Gilman when
we were in school together, but I have not been able to feel,
since I located here, that he is exactly the same John; and what
you have told me very probably explains the difference in him."
When Katy announced dinner Linda arose.
Peter Morrison stepped beside her and offered his arm. Linda
rested her finger tips upon it and he led her to the head of the
table and seated her. Then Katy served a meal that, if it had
been prepared for Eileen, she would have described as a banquet.
She gave them delicious, finely flavored food, stimulating,
exquisitely compounded drinks that she had concocted from the
rich fruits of California and mints and essences at her command.
When, at the close of the meal, she brought Morrison some of the
cigars Eileen kept for John Gilman, she set a second tray before
Linda, and this tray contained two packages. Linda looked at
Katy inquiringly, and Katy, her face beaming, nodded her sandy
red head emphatically.
"More birthday gifts you've havin', me lady," she said in her
mellowest Irish voice.
"More?" marveled Linda. She picked up the larger package, and
opening it, found a beautiful book inscribed from her friend
Donald, over which she passed caressing fingers.
"Why, how lovely of him!" she said. "How in this world did he
know?"
Katherine O'Donovan could have answered that question, but she
did not. The other package was from Marian. When she opened it
Linda laughed unrestrainedly.
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