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 had not only style and legibility, but unusual individuality. I only wish I could show it to you, but naturally I have not the originals of her letters.

There! Now, I have got ahead of my story! For I had meant to convey the impression at this point, that that was the end of the correspondence, as I am sure it ought to have been. I was intending to go on and give, with a few light touches, a sketch of Brunt as a society man; for he was quite stunning when he laid himself out, and I did not know but that I could remember some of the hits he made at the Van Deusenberg dinner the very next evening. But now that you know the correspondence went on, you will, of course, be in a hurry to hear about that, and you will not want to be told what Brunt was saying to some other girl whom you are not interested in. I think myself that a story is always a bore when it interrupts itself. Only I wish you had been at the dinner, as I was, to hear the discussion on Spoils. A