I’m going up to London with the Widgetts to that ball. She posed herself before her mirror and surveyed herself with gravely thoughtful, gravely critical, and yet admiring eyes. ’ ‘Hélas, poor you,’ Melusine rejoined sarcastically. ‘You are an avid reader, I take it. Thing's upset you a bit. Under the somewhat trying incandescent light her cheeks pleaded guilty to a recent use of the powder puff. “I’m sorry! Mary! Are you hurt?” “No. Wood, in a whisper, as he filled a rummer to the brim, not to forget the health of the Chevalier de Saint George—a proposition to which the lady immediately responded by drinking the toast aloud. For a time her efforts to achieve a comprehensive concentration were dispersed by the passage of the village street of Caddington, the passing of a goggled car-load of motorists, and the struggles of a stable lad mounted on one recalcitrant horse and leading another. Well might she do so, Gerald thought in irritation. \" She sat down on a nearby bench.
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