Hamil, you remember Miss Wilming in the 'Motor Girl.' She was one of the acetylenes.

Come on; we'll all light up later.

Make him come, Dolly." Hamil turned to speak to her.

She seemed to be, at a casual glance, the sort of young girl who usually has a mother somewhere within ear-shot.
Upon inspection, however, her bright hair was a little too perfectly rippled, and her mouth a trifle fuller and redder than a normal circulation might account for.

But there remained in the eyes something as yet unquenched.