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Angellotti, Marion Polk, 1894-1979

"The Firefly of France"

However, it was the second figure, the one in the
rosy veils and the tan mantle, that was exciting me. Off came her
wrappings, and I saw a girl in a white gown and a flowered hat--the
loveliest girl on earth.
I did not stand on the order of my going. I rocked perilously, and
my crutches made a furious clatter, but I was outside in a truly
infinitesimal space of time. Yes; there they were, chatting with Dunny,
who had hurried to meet them. And at sight of me the Firefly of France
ran forward with hands extended, greeting me as if I were his oldest
friend, his brother, his dearest comrade in arms.
I took his hands and I pressed them with what show of warmth I could
summon. It was as peasant as a bit of torture, but it had to be gone
through. Then I stared past him toward the ladies, who were coming up
with Dunny; and except for that girl in white, I saw nothing in all the
world.
"Monsieur," the duke was saying, "I pay you my first visit. Only my
weakness has prevented me from sooner welcoming to Raincy-la-Tour so
honored a guest."
He turned to the lady who stood beside Miss Falconer, a slender,
dark-eyed, gracious young woman wearing a simple black gown and a black
hat and a string of pearls.


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