The Golden Slipper

Other Problems for Violet Strange

Fiction & Literature, Classics, Romance
Cover of the book The Golden Slipper by ANNA KATHARINE GREEN, WDS Publishing
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Author: ANNA KATHARINE GREEN ISBN: 1230000194012
Publisher: WDS Publishing Publication: November 3, 2013
Imprint: Language: English
Author: ANNA KATHARINE GREEN
ISBN: 1230000194012
Publisher: WDS Publishing
Publication: November 3, 2013
Imprint:
Language: English

 

"She's here! I thought she would be. She's one of the three

young ladies you see in the right-hand box near the proscenium."

 

The gentleman thus addressed--a man of middle age and a member

of the most exclusive clubs--turned his opera glass toward the

spot designated, and in some astonishment retorted:

 

"She? Why those are the Misses Pratt and--"

 

"Miss Violet Strange; no other."

 

"And do you mean to say--"

 

"I do--"

 

"That yon silly little chit, whose father I know, whose fortune

I know, who is seen everywhere, and who is called one of the

season's belles is an agent of yours; a--a--"

 

"No names here, please. You want a mystery solved. It is not a

matter for the police--that is, as yet,--and so you come to me,

and when I ask for the facts, I find that women and only women

are involved, and that these women are not only young but one

and all of the highest society. Is it a man's work to go to the

bottom of a combination like this? No. Sex against sex, and, if

possible, youth against youth. Happily, I know such a person--a

girl of gifts and extraordinarily well placed for the purpose.

Why she uses her talents in this direction--why, with means

enough to play the part natural to her as a successful

debutante, she consents to occupy herself with social and other

mysteries, you must ask her, not me. Enough that I promise you

her aid if you want it. That is, if you can interest her. She

will not work otherwise."

 

Mr. Driscoll again raised his opera glass.

 

"But it's a comedy face," he commented. "It's hard to associate

intellectuality with such quaintness of expression. Are you sure

of her discretion?"

 

"Whom is she with?"

 

"Abner Pratt, his wife, and daughters."

 

"Is he a man to entrust his affairs unadvisedly?"

 

"Abner Pratt! Do you mean to say that she is anything more to

him than his daughters' guest?"

 

"Judge. You see how merry they are. They were in deep trouble

yesterday. You are witness to a celebration."

 

"And she?"

 

"Don't you observe how they are loading her with attentions?

She's too young to rouse such interest in a family of notably

unsympathetic temperament for any other reason than that of

gratitude."

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"She's here! I thought she would be. She's one of the three

young ladies you see in the right-hand box near the proscenium."

 

The gentleman thus addressed--a man of middle age and a member

of the most exclusive clubs--turned his opera glass toward the

spot designated, and in some astonishment retorted:

 

"She? Why those are the Misses Pratt and--"

 

"Miss Violet Strange; no other."

 

"And do you mean to say--"

 

"I do--"

 

"That yon silly little chit, whose father I know, whose fortune

I know, who is seen everywhere, and who is called one of the

season's belles is an agent of yours; a--a--"

 

"No names here, please. You want a mystery solved. It is not a

matter for the police--that is, as yet,--and so you come to me,

and when I ask for the facts, I find that women and only women

are involved, and that these women are not only young but one

and all of the highest society. Is it a man's work to go to the

bottom of a combination like this? No. Sex against sex, and, if

possible, youth against youth. Happily, I know such a person--a

girl of gifts and extraordinarily well placed for the purpose.

Why she uses her talents in this direction--why, with means

enough to play the part natural to her as a successful

debutante, she consents to occupy herself with social and other

mysteries, you must ask her, not me. Enough that I promise you

her aid if you want it. That is, if you can interest her. She

will not work otherwise."

 

Mr. Driscoll again raised his opera glass.

 

"But it's a comedy face," he commented. "It's hard to associate

intellectuality with such quaintness of expression. Are you sure

of her discretion?"

 

"Whom is she with?"

 

"Abner Pratt, his wife, and daughters."

 

"Is he a man to entrust his affairs unadvisedly?"

 

"Abner Pratt! Do you mean to say that she is anything more to

him than his daughters' guest?"

 

"Judge. You see how merry they are. They were in deep trouble

yesterday. You are witness to a celebration."

 

"And she?"

 

"Don't you observe how they are loading her with attentions?

She's too young to rouse such interest in a family of notably

unsympathetic temperament for any other reason than that of

gratitude."

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