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"The plain one, who did n't say much; he picked up my muff when it tumbled down, and took care of me in the crowd; the others did n't mind anything about me." "They thought you were a little girl, I suppose." "My mother says a real gentleman is as polite to a little girl as to a woman; so I like Mr. Sydney best, because he was kind to me." "What a sharp child you are, Polly.
"If that is what he means, he must be a jolly muff," remarked the Honourable Arthur. "I should think he'd have to send a guidebook with the bloomin' thing." We never knew how Terence arranged about the incubus; we only saw that he did not enter the drawing room with it in his arms.
She tucked it back into her muff, and her eyes avoided his. He noted all this pantomime, and he was about to speak, when Mrs. Masters touched Kate on the shoulder. "My dear, you're missing this!" she whispered. Kate put all her attention upon Mr. Murphy and his burning story about the pulling of Candlestick. Mr. Murphy grew a little too broad; Mrs.
"It would be easy to lie to you; but the truth is I think it detestable." "Oh, so do I!" she cried with a deep breath of relief. He sprang up impatiently. "Well, then it's my turn to ask: what is it, in God's name, that you think better?" She hung her head and continued to clasp and unclasp her hands in her muff.
Elviry and Margery were seated before the living-room stove, while old Lizzie sat on one edge of Amos' arm chair eyeing the two belligerently. Margery was wearing a new fur coat. Her beautiful black eyes looked out from under a saucy fur-trimmed hat with a scarlet quill on the side. Elviry wore black broadcloth with fox collar and muff.
She crossed her feet nervously and tried to get a soothing sensation by stroking her sable muff. She made a great effort at concentration and failed to understand anything. All at once it grew dark, as the sunset light faded out of the sky. Again she felt the desire to rise and the certainty that she could not, if she tried.
Muff, at Cheltenham. If perseverance and forty thousand pounds down could have tempted him, Miss Lydia Croesus would certainly have been Lady Buckram. Count Towrowski was glad to take her with half the meney, as all the genteel world knows.
Darsie tossed her head, gratitude giving place to wounded pride. "Muff, indeed! You don't know what you are talking about, or you wouldn't be so unkind. I ran like the rest, but I fell caught my foot on something, and fell on my face. I believe I fainted."
What had she to do with matrimony; with hopes for a happy, contented home and surcease of the never-ending search for the pittance that might keep her alive? She hardly knew why she folded it and ran the end into the poor little worn plush muff she carried. When she reached her room again she lighted the lamp and looked it over.
"No; I want to say something, and I can't stay long," said Gwendolen, speaking quickly in a subdued tone, while she walked forward and rested her arms and muff on the back of the chair he had pushed away from him. "I want to tell you that it is really so I can't help feeling remorse for having injured others.
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