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(as it usually was), disclosed twin rows of sound, white, home-made teeth. Her active young person was modelled on generous lines and, as a rule, clothed in a manner which, if inexpensive, detracted nothing from her conspicuous sightliness. She was fond of adorning her pretty, sturdy shoulders, as well as her fetching and shapely, if plump, ankles, with semi-transparent things--and she was quite as fond of having them admired. P. Sybarite, approaching the gate, delicately averted his eyes.... At that moment, George was announcing in an undertone: "Here's the lollop now." "You are certainly one observin' young gent," remarked Miss Prim in accents of envious admiration. Ignoring the challenge, Bross pondered hastily. "Think I better spring it on him now?" he enquired in doubt. "My Gawd, no!" protested the lady in alarm. "I'd spoil the plant, sure. I'd _love_ to watch you feed it to him, but Heaven knows I'd never be able to hold in without bustin'." "You think he'll swallow it, all right?" "That simp?" cried Miss Prim in open derision. "Why, he'll eat it _alive_!" P. Sybarite walked into the front yard, and the chorus lady began to crow with delight, welcoming him with wild wavings of a pretty, powdered forearm. "Well, _look_ who's here! 'Tis old George W. Postscript--as I live! Hitherwards, little one: I wouldst speech myself to thee." Smiling, P. Sybarite approached the pair. He liked Miss Prim for her unaffected high spirits, and because he was never in the least ill at ease with her. "Well?" he asked pleasantly, blinking up at the lady from the foot of the steps. "What is thy will, O Breaker of Hearts?" "That'll be about all for yours," announced Violet reprovingly. "You hadn't oughta carry on like that--at your age, too! Not that _I_ mind--I rather like it; but what'd your family say if they knew you was stuck on an actress?" "'Love blows as the wind blows,'" P. Sybarite quoted gently. "How shall I hide the fact of my infatuation? If my family cast me off, so be it!" "I told you, behave! Next thing you know, George will be bitin' the fence.... What's all this about you givin' a box party at the Knickerbocker to-night?" "It's a fact," affirmed P. Sybarite. "Only I had counted on the pleasure of inviting you myself," he added with a patient glance at George. "Never mind about that," interposed the lady. "I'm just as tickled to death, and I love you a lot more'n I do George, anywa
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