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Tracy, Louis, 1863-1928

"The Postmaster's Daughter"

Grant has never made love to you. But I must be candid, young
lady. There is no earthly reason why he shouldn't, though I could name
offhand half a dozen why he should.... Well, well, I must not pay
compliments. My friend, Mr. Furneaux, can manage that with much greater
facility, being half a Frenchman. And now I'm going to say an unpleasant
thing. I ask your forgiveness in advance. Both Mr. Furneaux and I agree
in the opinion that your imaginary love affair is indissolubly bound up
with the mystery of Miss Melhuish's death. In a word, I have brought you
here today to discuss your prospective marriage, and nothing else. That
astonishes you, eh? Well, it's the truth, as I shall proceed to make
clear. There's a Mr. Fred Elkin, for instance--"
Doris uttered a little laugh of dismay. Winter's emphatic words had
astounded her, but the horse-dealer's name acted as comic relief.
"I can't bear the man," she protested.
"I have no doubt. But you ought to know that he is loudly proclaiming his
determination to marry you before the year is out."
The girl's face reddened again, and her eyes sparkled.
"I wouldn't marry him if he were a peer of the realm," she said
indignantly.


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