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Widdemer, Margaret, 1884-1978

"The Wishing-Ring Man"

"There's nothing he needs more than my
friendship. He explained it to me."
Phyllis and he both laughed.
"You always did have winning ways, Allan," said his wife
mischievously. "When is John expected to drop in? He, too, loves
you--don't forget that!"
Allan grinned.
"Poor old Johnny has to look after his patients. He can't very well
snatch a vacation in his own home town. It's a hard world for
gentlemen, Joy!"
Phyllis looked from one to the other of them with an answering light
of mischief in her eyes.
"I suppose John could take anybody he liked to hold the car,
couldn't he?" she said demurely. "In fact--he has!"
"If you mean me," answered Joy, "he was very severe with me
yesterday. John is bringing me up in the way I should go!" The
feeling of vivid excitement was still carrying her along, and she
laughed as she answered them.
Allan looked at her critically.
"H'm!" he said thoughtfully. "I seem to have a feeling that he won't
bring you such an amazing distance, at that--short time as I have
known you. Did you say popovers this morning, Phyllis?"
"Popovers," nodded Phyllis, "and some of Lily-Anna's fresh marmalade."
"An' little dogs!" broke in Philip enthusiastically. "Oh, Father,
don't you just _love_ little dogs?"
His mother tried to look troubled.
"Allan, don't you think you could teach Phil, by precept or example,
that they really are sausages?" she asked. "The other day at Mrs.


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