"Well, that's more than I
did."
He glanced hurriedly through the letter, crumpled it up in his hand,
and went jauntily up the street until he came to Hatch's Photograph
Gallery. Entering, he gave the proprietor a hearty "good morning,"
and then drew a chair up before the low "sheet-iron stove" which
heated the reception-room. Hatch was "printing" behind a partition,
and their conversation was carried on at long range over the top.
Presently the visitor drew the crumpled letter from his pocket,
tore it into tiny pieces and cast it into the fire.
"Well, so long, Hatch. I'm off for a stroll in your crisp October
air."
CHAPTER XI
THANE VISITS TWO HOUSES
All day long Alix was troubled. She could not free her thoughts
of that searing look or the spell it had cast over her during the
brief instant of contact. She was haunted by it. At times she gave
herself up to a reckless, unmaidenly rejoicing in the thrill it
had given her; at such times she flushed to the roots of her hair
despite the chill of ecstasy that swept over her. But far more
often she found herself resenting the liberty his eyes had taken,--a
mental rather than a physical liberty. She was resolved that it
should not happen again.
She had posted a note to David Strong that morning. Before the car
had covered the first mile on its way to town, she was wishing she
had not dropped it into the slot at the post-office.
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