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MacGrath, Harold, 1871-1932

"The Puppet Crown"

You are more familiar with the pen; I
dare say you could best him at that."
"What makes you think I can not lick him?"
"Since when have the saber and the civilian been on terms? And
these continental sabers are matchless, the finest in the world.
I trust you will steer clear of the Colonel; if you have any
challenge in mind, spring it on me, and I'll let you down easy."
Then: "Why the devil do you want to lick him, anyway?"
"I don't know," said Maurice. "I had a close range to-night, and
somehow the man went against the grain. Well, Jack, I'll stay
with you in this affair, though, as the county judge at home
would say, it's out of my circuit."
They shook hands across the table.
"Come," said Fitzgerald; "a toast, for I must be off."
"What do you say to her Royal Highness?"
"Let us make it general: to all women!"
They set down the glasses and shook hands again.
"It seemed good to run across you in Vienna, Maurice. You were
one of the bright spots in the old days."
"Do you want me to walk with you to the Grand? It's a fine night,"
said Maurice, waving his hand toward the moon. "By George,
what a beautiful place this end of Bleiberg is! I do not wonder
that the duchess covets it.


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