Her Mysterious Charm
In the conservatory of a palatial Houston home Roland Pendergast stood with folded arms and an smile upon his face, down upon the upturned features of Gabrielle .
“Why is it,” he said, “that I am attracted by you? You are not beautiful, you lack , grace, and savoir faire. You are cold, unsympathetic and bowlegged.
“I have striven to analyze the power you have over me, but in . Some chain of mental binds us two together, but what is its nature? I dislike being in love with one who has neither , naivete nor front teeth, but fate has willed it so. You personally me, but I can not tear you from my heart. You are in my thoughts by day and by night.
“Your form reminds me of a hatrack, but when I press you to my heart I feel strange thrills of joy. I can no more tell you why I love you than I can tell why a can rub a man’s head fifteen minutes without touching the spot that . Speak, Gabrielle, and tell me what is this spell you have woven around me!”
“I will tell you,” said Gabrielle with a soft smile. “I have fascinated many men in the same way. When I help you on with your overcoat I never reach under and try to pull your other coat down from the top of your collar.”