Smith's solitary orb followed in the same direction. She did not enter the cabin at once, but paused on the threshold and stared at the silent, recumbent figure in the bunk. “Fred,” he said, “do you remember taking me to dinner at the ‘Ambassador’s,’ one evening last September, to meet a girl who was singing there? Hamilton and Drummond and his lot were with us. It was one of the secret troubles of her mind, this grotesque twist her ideas would sometimes take, as though they rebelled and rioted.
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