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88 coffin, Angie beheld grinning at her a handsome face and foot. At least he was handsome to Angie—any man would be, were he grinning at her. Usually they frowned and asked her bitterly if she were a relic of the  Great War.

Despite the happiness that had thus come



into her life, Angela was in a quandary—hardly a proper costume in which to receive gentlemen at seven a. m. She felt it quite too early to reveal the bare facts of her simple life. Luckily, however, unless the gentleman under the bed had a periscope she was comparatively safe from observation,