"They'll be brought right out to the studio.

I'm taking you home with me in obedience to my wife's, orders.

She is anxious to meet the young woman who can out-ride and out-shoot any man on the screen, and can still be sweet and feminine and lovable.

I'm quoting my wife, you see, though I won't say those are not my sentiments also." "Your poor wife is going to receive a shock," said Jean in an unimpressed tone.

"But it's dear of her to want to meet me." Back of her speech was an irritated impatience that she should be gobbled and carried off like this, when she was sure that she ought to be helping Lite get that fool Pard unloaded and safely through the clang and clatter of the down-town district.
Robert Grant Burns, half facing her on a folding seat, sent her a queer, puzzled glance from under his eyebrows.