“I can’t imagine it,” said Miss Miniver. “In Paris. It’s a tremendous blow, of course—but it doesn’t kill me. “Does he ever ask about me?” She asked, feeling like a cuckolded old maid. One of the things that most surprised him in her was her capacity for blind obedience. He’s a prig to the finger-tips, is Sir John—doesn’t know what an artist is. No great lover of state or state costume at any time, he was generally, towards the close of an evening, completely in dishabille, and in this condition he now presented himself to his subjects. Blueskin therefore had nothing to stop him. ‘Would that your mistress were as trusting. A few minutes later Sir John left the room.
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