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Tracy, Louis, 1863-1928

"The Postmaster's Daughter"


"Quite so. But he is an avowed suitor. Now don't be vexed. Has he never
declared his intentions to _you_?"
"He would never dare. I sing and act a little, at village concerts and
dramatic performances, and he has annoyed me at times by an officious
pretense that he was deputed by my father to see me home. I came here
quite a little girl, so people learnt to use my Christian name. I don't
object to it at all. But I simply hate hearing it on Mr. Elkin's lips."
"Exit Fred!" said Winter solemnly. "Next!"
Doris, after a period of calm, was now profoundly uncomfortable. This
kind of prying was the last thing she had expected. She had come prepared
to defend Grant, but, beyond one exceedingly personal reference, the
detective had studiously shut him out of the conversation.
"What am I to say?" she cried. "Do you want a list of all the young men
who make sheep's eyes at me?"
"No. I can get that from the Census Bureau. Come, now, Miss Martin. _You_
know. Has any man in the village led you to suspect, shall we put it?
that sometime or other, he might ask you to become his wife?"
Lo, and behold! Doris's pretty eyes filled with tears. Superintendent
Fowler was so pleased at hearing Scotland Yard introducing a
parenthetical query into its sentences that he, sitting opposite, was
taken aback when Winter said in a fatherly way:
"I've been rather clumsy, I'm afraid.


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