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He looked her in the eyes, curious and, in a moment, convinced. "No," he said gently.... And, offering his hand: "Men are very ignorant concerning one another. Women are wiser, I think." He took the slender black-gloved hand in his. "Can I be of the least use to you?" he asked. "You have been," she sighed, "if what I said has taught you to know him a little better."

"Oh, let us get away, Bertha!" cried Monica, with her thin, black-gloved hands thrown forwards in abhorrence. "Not away, but into the next room," said Mrs. Westmacott, with the air of one whose word was law. "This way, if you please! It is less warm here."

The carriage stopped so abruptly and so near him that he paused and looked up, in natural wonderment at the circumstance. A lady dressed in mourning was leaning forward out of the carriage, looking eagerly after him. A second glance showed him that this lady was Mrs. Branston. "How do you do, Mr. Fenton," she cried, holding out her little black-gloved hand: "What an age since I have seen you!

She had nothing to read or to look at, and she had folded her thin little black-gloved hands in her lap. Her black dress made her look yellower than ever, and her limp light hair straggled from under her black crêpe hat. "A more marred-looking young one I never saw in my life," Mrs. Medlock thought. "I suppose I may as well tell you something about where you are going to," she said.

She is schoolmistress, and has a mortal dread of being wrong. 'Si, she cries, wavering, appealing, 'una dramma inglese. 'English! I repeated. 'Yes, an English drama. 'How do you write it? Anxiously, she gets a pencil from her reticule, and, with black-gloved scrupulousness, writes Amleto. 'Hamlet! I exclaim wonderingly.

Lola Brandt strove to pacify him. "We all have our sorrows, Anastasius. Did I not lose my beautiful horse Sultan?" The professor sprang to his full height of four feet and dashed away his tears with a noble gesture of his black-gloved hand. Base slave that he was to think of his own petty bereavement in the face of her eternal affliction. He turned to me and bade me mark her serene nobility.

Well, well, was it imaginable that they thought of Fifi that way already? Why, it was only three weeks ago that he had sent her the roses and she.... A black-gloved hand, holding an open book, descended out of the dim space behind him. It came to him, as by an inspiration, that the book was being offered for his use in some mysterious connection.

The door opened again, and Auntie Hamps was shown in by the servant. Before he could move the old lady had with overwhelming sweet supplications insisted that he should not move no, not even to shake hands! He rose only to shake hands, and then fell back into his comfort. Auntie Hamps fixed a chair for herself opposite him, and drummed her black-gloved hands on the white table-cloth.

When Paul saw them coming his first thought was, "Have I provided enough food and drink?" and the more the carriages came rolling into the yard, and entire strangers kept stretching out their black-gloved hands to his family, the more a voice seemed to say to him, "There won't be enough." His father had again one of his days of grandeur.

With her chin lifting suddenly in a burst of softly uproarious delight, the Youngish Girl turned her head half-way around and raised her narrow, black-gloved hands to push a tortoise-shell pin into place. "Why, it's perfectly simple," she explained. "It's just three puffs, and two curls, and then a twist."