The evening breeze came; the bamboo shades on the veranda clicked and rasped; the loose edges of the manuscript curled. \"Well, to tell you the truth, John Diedermayer. Well one night, some of us saw him, or thought we saw him, at a café dining with ‘Alcide,’—as a matter of fact, it seems that it was her sister. You are somebody’s secretary, are you not?” It was plain that the subject was distasteful to her, but Ennison, although famous in a small way for his social tact, did not at once discard it.
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