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Rinehart, Mary Roberts, 1876-1958

"Dangerous Days"


"Where in the world have you been all this time?" he demanded,
almost angrily. To his own surprise he was suddenly conscious of
a sense of indignation and affront. She had said she depended on
him, and then she had gone away and hidden herself. It was
ridiculous.
"Just getting acquainted with myself," she replied, with something
of her old airy manner. "Good-by."
His irritation passed as quickly as it came. He felt calm and very
sure of himself, and rather light-hearted. Joey, who was by now
installed as an office adjunct, and who commonly referred to the
mill as "ours," heard him whistling blithely and cocked an ear in
the direction of the inner room.
"Guess we've made another million dollars," he observed to the
pencil-sharpener.
Clayton was not in the habit of paying afternoon calls on women.
The number of such calls that he had paid without Natalie during
his married life could have been numbered on the fingers of his two
hands. Most of the men he knew paid such visits, dropping in
somewhere for tea or a highball on the way uptown.


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