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Harte, Bret, 1836-1902

"A Ward of the Golden Gate"

"
"And as your guardian," he went on, with half-veiled seriousness,
"I protest against your allowing your treasures, the property of
the Trust," he gazed directly into her beautiful eyes, "being
handled and commented upon by everybody."
When the ladies had left the table, he was, for a moment, relieved.
But only for a moment. Judge Baker drew his chair beside Paul's,
and, taking his cigar from his lips, said, with a perfunctory
laugh:--
"I say, Hathaway, I pulled up just in time to save myself from
making an awful speech, just now, to your ward."
Paul looked at him with cold curiosity.
"Yes. Gad! Do you know WHO was my rival in that necklace
transaction?"
"No," said Paul, with frigid carelessness.
"Why, Kate Howard! Fact, sir. She bought it right under my nose--
and overbid me, too."
Paul did not lose his self-possession. Thanks to the fact that
Yerba was not present, and that Don Caesar, who had overheard the
speech, moved forward with a suggestive and unpleasant smile, his
agitation congealed into a coldly placid fury.
"And I suppose," he returned, with perfect calmness, "that, after
the usual habit of this class of women, the necklace very soon
found its way back, through the pawnbroker, to the jeweler again.


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