THE ENCHANTED HAT
She looked out of the blurred windows. Her profile was beautiful to contemplate, and perhaps she knew it.
"Why don't you seek a footman," she asked, after a pause, "and have him announce that you have found a slipper?"
"Have you no more regard for romance than that?"
"You said that I was twenty-four years old. I have less regard for romance than for propriety."
"There you go again, battening down the hatches of convention! I am becoming discouraged."
"Is it possible? I have long since been."
She had always been a match for me.
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