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Stout, Rex, 1886-1975

"Under the Andes"

But there he was; and he had not even put himself to the
trouble of becoming uneasy about us.
As he himself put it that night in the cabin, over a bottle of
wine, he "didn't know but what the senora had decided to take the
Andes home for a mantel ornament, and was engaged in the little
matter of transportation."
But when I informed him that "the senora" was no more, his face
grew sober with genuine regret and sorrow. He had many good
things to say of her then; it appeared that she had really
touched his salty old heart.
"She was a gentle lady," said the worthy captain; and I smiled to
think how Desiree herself would have smiled at such a
characterization of the great Le Mire.
We at once made for San Francisco. There, at a loss, I disposed
of the remainder of the term of the lease on the yacht, and we
took the first train for the East.
Four days later we were in New York, after a journey saddened by
thoughts of the one who had left us to return alone.
It was, in fact, many months before the shadow of Desiree ceased
to hover about the dark old mansion on lower Fifth Avenue,
incongruous enough among the ancient halls and portraits of
Lamars dead and gone in a day when La Marana herself had darted
like a meteor into the hearts of their contemporaries.


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