As his left hand sank into his pocket, his fingers came in contact with
a piece of paper.
He knew that he had not placed the paper in his pocket, and glanced
around with his usual caution to see if any one was watching him. He saw
that wonderful pair of gray eyes with the dark lashes--Irish eyes, he
called them--watching him over the shoulders of a man a dozen feet away
in the crowd. But the moment the woman realized that she was being
observed, she disappeared.
"Deuced strange," he muttered to himself, fumbling with the paper, which
he had not withdrawn from his pocket. "That girl placed this paper in my
pocket. I wonder why. There is something out of the way here, for the
paper was not there before she stood beside me."
One less wise than Ted, and not so modest, might have thought that the
girl was trying to flirt with him. But to Ted there was something more
important and mysterious than that in her actions.
If he read them aright, she had placed the paper in his pocket when she
apparently accidentally bumped into him, and had gone away only to come
back to see if he had discovered it.
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