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Stout, Rex, 1886-1975

"Under the Andes"

Now! May I? Come!"
I laughed at her eager enthusiasm as she sprang up from her
chair.
"Le Mire, you are positively a baby. Something new to play with!
Well, you shall have it. But you haven't had breakfast. We'll go
out to see her this afternoon; in fact, I have already made an
appointment with the owner."
"Ah! Indeed, you are perfection. And--how well you know me."
She paused and seemed to be searching for words; then she said
abruptly: "M. Lamar, I wish you to do me a favor."
"Anything, Le Mire, in or out of reason."
Again she hesitated; then:
"Do not call me Le Mire."
I laughed.
"But certainly, Senora Ramal. And what is the favor?"
"That."
"That--"
"Do not call me Le Mire--nor Senora Ramal."
"Well, but I must address you occasionally."
"Call me Desiree."
I looked at her with a smile.
"But I thought that that was reserved for your particular
friends."
"So it is."
"Then, my dear senora, it would be impertinent of me."
"But if I request it?"
"I have said--anything in or out of reason. And, of course, I am
one of the family."
"Is that the only reason?"
I began to understand her, and I answered her somewhat dryly: "My
dear Desiree, there can be none other.


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