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Altsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander), 1862-1919

"The Hosts of the Air"

And, as you know,
you've never had any real objection to me except that I'm not a
Frenchman. And am I not becoming such as fast as possible?"
"You don't look very much like one, but you act like one and often you
talk like one."
"Thanks, Suzanne. That's praise coming from you."
"Now be off with you. My mistress is surely in the great room, and if
you care for her as much as you pretend, you will see that she is not
lonely, and don't talk nonsense, either."
John, chuckling, withdrew. As Suzanne had predicted he found Julie in
the large room, and she was quite composed, when she bade him good
morning.
"I see that the storm goes on," she said.
"So much the better. It is raising higher the wall between us and our
enemies. Our fire has burned out in the night, leaving only coals, but
there is a huge store of wood in the back part of the lodge."
He brought in an armful of billets to find her fanning the coals into a
blaze.
"You didn't think, sir," said she, "did you, that I mean to be a guest
here, waited upon by you and Suzanne?"
"But Suzanne and I are strong and willing! Don't lean too near that
blaze, Julie! You'll set your beautiful hair on fire!"
"And so you think my hair beautiful?"
"Very beautiful."
"It's not proper for you to say so. We're not in America."
"Nor are we in France, where young girls are surrounded by triple rows
of brass or steel.


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