IV
T all events, he could easily discover her identity. He had only to question Leona Morrill, and Leona would undoubtedly be at the dinner which he was attending. And yet it would be a good deal like throwing himself on the mercy of the enemy, for ever since the newspaper had predicted an engagement between him and the girl, and a certain journal of society had actually announced it, Leona Morrill had disliked him. He knew it and the rest of the world guessed it. There were some who declared—women, these—that Gordon Ames had behaved badly when the enterprising press had sought to hasten the engagement. Others—and these were the men, chuckling wickedly—declared that he had been "jolly wise." What he had really done was to run! Leona, possibly finding something uncomplimentary in the precipitancy of his flight, had seemingly never forgiven it. It wag a recognized rule that the two were
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