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The Port of Adventure

Chapter 3 THE ANNIVERSARY

Word Count: 1240    |    Released on: 30/11/2017

ry in an old Spanish mission. After the beginning of April, and sometimes long before, Carmen seldom took a

pink shells of broken roses, and so came to another veranda. This was pergola as well. It had no roof but beams of old Spanish chestnut, so draped with wistaria and roses that the whole out-of-doors room was c

d by dull gold glass; but neither these nor the tall shaded lamps on the low wall of the terrace, nor the hidden electric bulbs in the fountain basin, were allowed to shin

p), she left everything to her Chinese head-cook, who was a worthy rival of any Parisian chef; and the beautifying of her table to the artistic Japanese youth whose one business in life was to think out new flower-combinations. This, however, was not only the an

inker by preference and because he was an open-air man, also because it had been necessary for him to set an example; but to-night Carmen m

ill me if you saw any place you liked better, and if you made

ver left paradise unless he was

" she asked, playing with the

r time, after staying West so many years without a single break. First, I count on poking round in some of our old haunts-poor mother's

plays in San Franc

And just now it's those old associations pulling-something seems drawing and drawing me to

all things; and at that moment it happened that she could hear the moani

she asked, laughing rather shr

gel's I was telling y

tler to fill her guest's glass

the end of a year' I always said to myself. 'Twelve long months of hypocritical respect paid to the memory of a person who was more brute th

e ranch-meadows with their cattle, their shining, canal-like irrigation-ditches, their golden grain, their alfalfa, their fruit and flowers. All this wealth and much more old Grizzly Gaylor had given the pretty young singer in exchange for her bea

of rubs me up the wrong way to listen to you talk

this very night?"

to-day he breathed his last-and he didn't want to die. It sort of seems as if to-day ought to be sacred to him, no matter what he was. And-maybe I'm a dashed hypocrite and don't k

arred on Nick at the very moment when she most wished to charm him. She knew, with a heavy weight of premonition, that this moonlight talk she had planned would give her nothing worth having now. To try to make Nick feel her power would do more harm t

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