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e speech. Also for the space of a moment the man seemed surprised and a trifle embarrassed by this odd form of greeting. Nevertheless the next instant he was staring at the girl in equal amazement. Then suddenly he held out both his hands. "It is the 'Fairy of the Woods,' or I am dreaming!" he exclaimed, closing and then opening his eyes again. Polly at once dispelled all possible uncertainty. "If I am the 'Fairy of the Woods,' then you are 'Grazioso' in 'The Castle of Youth,'" she laughed, allowing her own hands to rest for the space of a second in those of her former acquaintance. "But as I happen to remember your real name, Mr. Hunt, and you cannot possibly recall mine, I am Polly O'Neill." "Then will you please sit down and tell me everything that has been happening to you and how I chance to find you here in London with Miss Adams?" Richard Hunt insisted, drawing up a chair to within a few feet of his own. Polly sat down. And quite unconsciously dropped her pointed chin into the palm of her hand, murmuring with her elbow resting on the arm of her chair: "You remember that time when I met you in New York, we were both playing in a fairy story," she said. "Well, sometimes fairy stories come true," she said. Ten minutes afterwards when Miss Adams entered the drawing room to greet her guest, to her surprise she found that he and Polly were already deep in intimate conversation, so much so that they did not immediately hear her approach. And Polly was ordinarily so diffident and tongue-tied with strangers! "I am glad that you and Mr. Hunt have not waited for me to introduce you, Polly," Miss Adams began. Polly jumped to her feet, and her face grew suddenly white. For she had never spoken of her escapade of two years before to Miss Adams, and did not know just how the great lady might receive it. Richard Hunt waited politely for the girl to acknowledge her previous acquaintance with him. For if she did not wish to speak he must, of course, by no word or sign betray her. However, in less than a moment Polly had fought out a silent battle with herself. There was no positive reason why she should confess her misdeed to this woman whom she admired beyond all others. And yet to pretend a falsehood to her friend, Polly could not endure the thought. The girl made a charming picture as she stood there in her white dress with her eyes cast down, not trusting herself to look into the face of either of her frien
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