But in a moment she believed she understood. After that night she made it a habit. “Fred,” he said, “do you remember taking me to dinner at the ‘Ambassador’s,’ one evening last September, to meet a girl who was singing there? Hamilton and Drummond and his lot were with us. Paintings sold off the walls. Do you see the time?” “I may come and see you?” Ennison asked, as his hand touched hers.
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