"No, no, no
Buy Newport Cigarette," she protested. Nobody could guess; only she knew; only she
could know
Wholesale Newport Cigarettes, because she was the great-grand-daughter of the man himself.
He had told her the story. What story? If they liked, she would try to
tell it. There was still time before the play.
"But where do I begin?" she pondered. "In the year 1820? . . . It must
have been about then that my greatgrandfather was a boy. I'm not young
myself"--no, but she was very well set up and handsome--"and he was a
very old man when I was a child--when he told me the story. A very
handsome old man, with a shock of white hair, and blue eyes. He must
have been a beautiful boy. But queer. . . . That was only natural," she
explained, "seeing how they lived. The name was Comber. They'd come down
in the world.