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'I hunger, it is true, but only for knowledge. In a silent but rather horrible laugh he wrinkled up his aged nose, which was quite enough wrinkled and sufficiently 'up' already. 'Who is the witch? 'Why, we were talking about a member of your family. She turned again to the new minister. 'Mr. Fox-Moore Sir oh! how absurd! I was going to introduce two pillars of the State to one another.
Yes, darling, that's the one. She's only looking like that because you aren't talking to her; and Mrs. Freddy overtook Vida just as she reached the Desert Island where Mrs. Fox-Moore stood, looking seaward for a sail. A few moments later, after ringing for dinner, Mrs. Freddy paused an instant, taking in the fact that Lady Whyteleafe hadn't been made as happy by Mr.
But it was something wholly different to set out for a Sunday Afternoon Concert, or upon some normal and recognized philanthropic errand, and on the way find one's self arrested for a few minutes by seeing a crowd gathered in a public square. Yet it had not been easy to screw Mrs. Fox-Moore up to thinking even this non-committal measure a possible one to pursue.
Fox-Moore complainingly called them, up there on the plinth 'quite like what one sees on the tops of omnibuses! Certainly it was an exercise in incongruity to compare these quiet, rather depressed looking people with the vision conjured up by Lord John's 'raving lunatics, 'worthy of the straight jacket, or Paul Filey's 'sexless monstrosities.
A woman with a perambulator, making up her mind at just the wrong moment to cross the road, found herself almost under the feet of the Fox-Moore horses. The coachman pulled up sharply, and before he had driven on, the lady's eyes had fallen on an inscription in white chalk on the flagstone 'Meeting here to-night at a quarter to six.
'The only reassuring thing I see in the situation, she said to her sister, 'is that they don't find many women to come and listen to their nonsense. 'Well, they've got you and me! Awful thought! Suppose they converted us! Mrs. Fox-Moore didn't even trouble to reply to such levity.
'How perfectly silly! amended the other, 'when one thinks of that kind and charming Pillar of Excellence! 'I told you they were mad as well as bad. 'I know; and now we're going to watch them prove it. Come on. 'Why, they've stopped the fountains! Mrs. Fox-Moore spoke as though detecting an additional proof of turpitude.
Much out of place in such a gathering as Mrs. Fox-Moore or any ultra-oldfashioned woman was, still more incongruous showed there the relation of mistress and maid.
There's more of him to be ugly, isn't there? I appealed to them everything about him is bigger, coarser he's much less human," says I, "and much more like a dreadful old monkey." I raised my wretched eyes, and there, not three feet away, was the aged husband of the Fox-Moore woman ogling Hermione Heriot! Oh, let me die! Mrs.
Fox-Moore knew, her sister, instead of being in the houses where she was supposed to be, and doing the things she was expected to be doing, might have been seen in highly unexpected haunts prosecuting her acquaintance with cockney crowds, never learning Ernestine's fearlessness of them, and yet in some way fascinated almost as much as she was repelled.
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