Sylvester stood talking to her husband.
CHAPTER XIII
THE FACE AT THE WINDOW
Harry Kent rang the doorbell at the McIntyre residence for the fifth
time, and wondered what had become of the faithful Grimes; the butler
was usually the soul of promptness, and to keep a caller waiting on
the doorstep would, in his category, rank as the height of
impropriety. As Kent again raised his hand toward the bell, the
door swung open suddenly and Barbara beckoned to him to come inside.
"The bell is out of order," she explained. "I saw you from the
window. Hurry, and Grimes won't know that you are here," and she
darted ahead of him into the reception room. Kent followed more
slowly; he was hurt that she had had no other greeting for him.
"Babs, aren't you glad to see me?" he asked wistfully.
For an instant her eyes were lighted by her old sunny smile.
"You know I am," she whispered softly. As his arms closed around
her and their lips met in a tender kiss she added fervently, "Oh,
Harry, why didn't you make me marry you in the happy bygone days?"
"I asked you often enough," he declared.
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