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She also begged to thank Cousin Margaret for the doll so kindly sent Roselle and for the red mittens sent to Paul.
Roselle began pulling her fur coat up over her arms; it was past ten o'clock; and on Sundays she went to bed early, to counteract as far as might be the results of all the late nights during the week. "Take me home," she demanded.
He wondered what Rosemary Roselle had written about in her absurd English this time. As he looked at the theme's exterior, his attention shifted from the paper to himself, his conscience towered darkly above him, demanding a condemnatory examination of his feelings and impulses. Had he not begun to look for, to desire, those essays from a doubtless erroneous and light young woman?
That was the kind of reception a man expected for his troubles. But after Roselle had let him pay for their expensive lunch, she had needed other things perfume and candy. And she "borrowed" the rent of her rooms from him for several weeks. She went back to London two months ahead of him, having written for and secured a moderately good engagement.
"Maybe they only took her out of the window 'cause the blue silk would fade. I'll go in and ask." A minute later Tommy came out looking sober. "Yes, she's sold, Bessie," he said. "Mr. Blacklock sold her to a lady yesterday. Don't cry, Bessie maybe they'll put another in the window 'fore long." "It won't be mine," sobbed Bessie. "It won't be Roselle Geraldine.
"She's a duck," said the other woman, her eyes snapping, "but of course yesterday wasn't my first acquaintance with her. I know her every trick well. When we were in New York people were so struck by her neatness in traffic." Osborn started involuntarily, exclaiming as involuntarily: "Roselle!" "What?" she asked, turning a stare upon him. He fidgeted uncomfortably. "Don't be an ass," he said.
You won't get it," he whispered back. "It's due to me. You're a rotter." "There's nothing due to you," he replied with a sudden air of relief at the discovery. An abounding idea of happiness to come filled him as he moved beside Roselle down the crowded restaurant. As they went he said: "It's all over; I'm a fool no longer.
She sighed again now, as she picked up the doll before her, and gently smoothed into order the shining hair. If only this were for Nellie! but it was n't. It was for Julia's Roselle, Roselle who already possessed a dozen French dolls, and would probably possess as many more before her doll days were over, while Nellie
"It didn't matter. I was going to say, that after her death, I found myself quite well off, comparatively." "You didn't tell me much." "No. Well, you didn't ask much. Surely, I answered all your questions?" He remembered uncomfortably the many months of his abstraction with Roselle; she had occupied his thoughts for a while almost to the exclusion of everything else. "I expect you did, dearest."
"It doesn't matter," he remarked, rousing himself, "the thing is to make the best of life, and by Jove! I'm going to!" "So you come and look for me?" "Precisely," said Osborn. "You've been awf'ly decent to me, Roselle. Knowing you has meant a lot to me. I don't believe you'd let a fellow down very badly, would you?"
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