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"On the Firing Line"

"
With perfect composure, Ethel passed her hand over the surface of
the cot.
"Oh, I think this nutmeg-grater will carry two. Still, Alice, I must
say that your hospitality isn't exactly exuberant."
Alice dropped into a chair and wearily pushed her hair still farther
back from her forehead.
"But, Cooee--"
"Aren't you glad to see me?" Ethel demanded.
"Certainly. You are always a dear; but--I wish I had known you were
coming."
Ethel raised her brows, and a slight edge came into her voice.
"If you don't want me, Alice, I can go home in the morning."
Dimly aware that her cousin was fencing with an invisible adversary,
nevertheless Alice Mellen was too tired, that night, to range
herself upon the side of that adversary. As far as she was
concerned, Ethel had dropped upon her like a bolt from the blue. She
was too busy, too absorbed in her patients to give more than a
passing thought to even her most intimate cousin. And besides,
Weldon--She pulled herself together sharply.
"Of course I want you, Cooee dear. It is only a bit sudden, and I am
trying to think what to do with you."
Now and then Ethel turned wayward. This was one of the times.


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