“Listen! There was a Meysey Hill in Paris, an American railway millionaire. “You remember the man in Paris who used to follow me about—Meysey Hill they called him?” He nodded. ” She laughed gaily—and she had a way when she laughed of throwing back her head and showing her beautiful white teeth, so that mirth from her was a thing very much to be desired. Her tears dissipated as she began to convulse, completely devoid of any spare fluid. Preparations were next made for taking Thames on board. Ah! but you can’t imagine what you are to me and what you mean to me! I suppose there is something mystical and wonderful about all women. ” She could practically hear the self-deprecating thoughts racing across his mind, the failed hours of rehearsed lines.
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