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Rh he, completely satisfied. "Come, let us to the ball room. I heard your editorial friend, Doane, swearing a moment ago that you had promised to waltz with him, but that you had secreted yourself to escape his clutches."

"True, I had almost overlooked that. I wish I could educate Doane once in a while to say a kindly thing, but I fear the task is a hopeless one."

She was much relieved that the trying scene had ended, and with no disastrous results.

Despite the difference in their dispositions, something usually brought Doane, Wayland and Connors together. So about midnight, at the grand ball, this trio found themselves together in one of the apartments of the great mansion.

Connors, the politician, started to talk. "If Sarah Bernhardt were here," he said, "she'd take a bath in the wine we have wasted tonight."

"The frail Sarah has much faith in this method of preserving health, as did old Ponce de Leon, in the long-sought-for fountain of immortal youth."

"By the way," said Doane, "did you hear the story they tell on the actress, while on her late Western tour?"

"No," they exclaimed, "let us have it."