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Stout, Rex, 1886-1975

"Under the Andes"


"What do you say to a ride down the valley?" said Harry. "They
have excellent horses here; I tried one of 'em the other day."
"I trust that they bear no resemblance to my donkey," said I with
feeling.
"Ugh!" said Le Mire with a shudder. "Never shall I forget that
ride. Besides," she added, turning to Harry, "this morning I
would be in the way. Don't you know that your brother has a
thousand things to say to you? He wants to scold you; you must
remember that you are a very bad boy."
And she sent me a glance half defiant, half indifferent, which
plainly said: "If I fight you, I shall win; but I really care
very little about it one way or the other."
After breakfast she went to her room--to have her hair dressed,
she said--and I led Harry to a secluded corner of the magnificent
grounds surrounding the hotel. During the walk we were both
silent: Harry, I suppose, was wondering what I was going to say,
while I was trying to make up my own mind.
"I suppose," he began abruptly, "you are going to tell me I have
acted like a fool. Go ahead; the sooner it's over the better."
"Nothing of the sort," said I, glad that he had opened it.


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