“That young man was giving a luncheon party to a dozen friends at the Café de Paris to-day. “Don’t be childish, Annabel. Thankfully, he seemed pleased the moment he saw her face, which her mother had made her wash for weeks with the pulp of apples, orange water, and 21 extract of borage among other things. “I don’t see, Mollie,” he remarked, taking a cigar from the box on the table as his sister and daughter rose, “why you and Vee shouldn’t discuss this little affair —whatever it is—without bothering me. “‘Go it, missie,’ they said; “kick aht!’ “I swore at that policeman—and disgusted him. “Like a stab. ‘I am done, Gérard. " "I thought as much," sneered Mrs.
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