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Perhaps it is enhanced by a certain yellow play in Lady Tippins's throat, like the legs of scratching poultry. But I am resolved to have the account of the man from Somewhere, and I beg you to elicit it for me, my love, to Mrs Veneering, 'as I have lost my own influence. Oh, you perjured man! This to Mortimer, with a rattle of her fan.
Skittish is Tippins with Mortimer Lightwood too, and has raps to give him with her fan for having been best man at the nuptials of these deceiving what's-their-names who have gone to pieces. Though, indeed, the fan is generally lively, and taps away at the men in all directions, with something of a grisly sound suggestive of the clattering of Lady Tippins's bones.
No sooner does the carriage turn out, all complete, than she turns into it, all complete, and gives the word 'To Lady Tippins's. That charmer dwells over a staymaker's in the Belgravian Borders, with a life-size model in the window on the ground floor of a distinguished beauty in a blue petticoat, stay-lace in hand, looking over her shoulder at the town in innocent surprise.
And here is another of my lovers, a rough Cymon at present certainly, but of whom I had most hopeful expectations as to his turning out well in course of time, pretending that he can't remember his nursery rhymes! On purpose to annoy me, for he knows how I doat upon them! A grisly little fiction concerning her lovers is Lady Tippins's point.
Lady Tippins's hand is "rich in knuckles." And here is vision with great dignity: "All beyond his figure was a vast dark curtain, in solemn movement towards one quarter of the heavens."
And then Mrs Veneering for the Lady Tippins's winning wiles are contagious folds her hands in the manner of a supplicating child, turns to her left neighbour, and says, 'Tease! Pay! Man from Tumwhere! At which the four Buffers, again mysteriously moved all four at once, explain, 'You can't resist!
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