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Stout, Rex, 1886-1975

"Under the Andes"

"
Then, seeing the expression on my face, he continued hastily:
"Oh, not for myself. You know me; I'll do anything that any one
else will do, and more, if I can. But Desiree! I tell you, if
anything happened to her I--well--"
I cut him short:
"My dear boy, the idea is Desiree's own. And to talk of danger
where she is concerned! She would laugh at you."
"She has," Harry confessed with a doubtful smile.
I clapped him roughly on the shoulder.
"Come, brace up! Our caravan awaits us--and see, the fairy, too.
Are you ready, Desiree?"
She came toward us from the inner rooms of the hotel, smiling,
radiant. I shall never forget the picture she presented. She wore
white knickerbockers, a white jacket, tan-leather boots and
leggings and a khaki hat.
Her golden hair, massed closely about her ears and upon her
forehead, shimmered in the bright sun dazzlingly; her eyes
sparkled; her little white teeth gleamed in a happy, joyous
smile.
We lifted her to the back of her mule, then mounted our own.
Suddenly a recollection shot through my brain with remarkable
clearness, and I turned to Le Mire:
"Desiree, do you know the first time I ever saw you? It was in
an electric brougham at the Gare du Nord.


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