"The colonel," she began, and then hesitated and smiled. "You, Mr.
McPherson, have become a figure in my father's life. He depends upon you
very much. He tells me that he has talked with you concerning a Miss
Luella London from the theatre, and that you have agreed with him that the
colonel and she should marry."
Sam watched her gravely. A flicker of mirth ran through him, but his face
was grave and disinterested.
"Yes?" he said, looking into her eyes. "Have you met Miss London?"
"I have," answered Sue Rainey. "Have you?"
Sam shook his head.
"She is impossible," declared the colonel's daughter, clutching the glove
held in her hand and staring at the floor. A flush of anger rose in her
cheeks. "She is a crude, hard, scheming woman. She colours her hair, she
cries when you look at her, she hasn't even the grace to be ashamed of
what she is trying to do, and she has got the colonel into a fix."
Sam looked at the brown of Sue Rainey's cheek and thought the texture of
it beautiful. He wondered why he had heard her called a plain woman. The
heightened colour brought to her face by her anger had, he thought,
transfigured her. He liked her direct, forceful way of putting the matter
of the colonel's affair, and felt keenly the compliment implied by her
having come to him.
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