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She was rather a fat person, apparently possessing the gift of authority, for the sound of her call reached her dog through the noise of battle. He saw that his aim was not one to achieve in the presence of an audience. He disengaged his teeth from the mane of Mr. Russell's Hound. "Is your dog much hurt?" asked the mistress of the house, and handed Anonyma a slate.
Why should I try to conceal the fact? I will not have a pair of rimless ghosts haunting my face. I will wear spectacles without shame." But the real truth was that the tortoise-shell rims were more becoming to her. Mrs. Gustus was known to her husband's family as Anonyma. The origin of this habit was an old joke, and I have forgotten the point of it.
"Mr. Hugh Johnstone is quite ill at his house, and has been sending all over for you." "Ah! This is grave news" ostentatiously cried Hawke. "I'll drive over at once." And then he fled away, leaving the gay loiterers still discussing the lovely anonyma whose advent was now the one sensation of the hour. "Who the devil can her friends be?" "She plays a bold game," mused the startled Major.
It was this feeling which made her realize almost more vividly than she had time for, in the whirl of politics and fashion, the danger of his friendship with this lady to whom she alluded so discreetly as 'Anonyma. Pure chance had been responsible for the inception of that friendship.
"Who lives there?" "A young man with his mother. I forget the name." "Place we want's west," objected Mr. Russell. "You never can tell," said Anonyma. "This place may stand on a salient, facing west. Our search must be thorough." "It's such a lovely walk," said the admirer. "I should be so much honoured if you would let me show you the way. Oh, I say, do you think me very presumptuous?"
Some men are like that, and others, one would say, could never have been so intimate with a woman as to be born of her. "My soul is greater than I am," said the stranger. "There is no command that drowns the command of the soul. I cannot possibly be wrong." "You could not possibly be right," said Anonyma. "Good-morning."
If you were tossed from the horns of a bull into the jaws of a crocodile, and died of pneumonia contracted during the flight, you would not surprise Cousin Gustus. He is never at a loss for a precedent. The only way you could really astonish him would be by living a blameless life without adventure, and dying of old age in your bed. "There were warnings," said Anonyma.
With this sort of grotesque glorying does London inspire me, so that I spend whole days together feeling that the essential I is too big for what encloses it. Anonyma never felt like this. She often spoke the right word, but she nearly always spoke it coldly.
But Anonyma went out in a mackintosh that gave her the "silhouette" of a Cossack, and a beautiful little tarpaulin sou'wester, and high boots, and a skirt short enough to give the boots every chance of advertisement. The notebook was safe in a water-tight pocket. She covered with great speed and enthusiasm the few miles to the sea.
At the point of the bayonet, it says isn't it atrocious? 'The enemy were finally repulsed at the point of the bay oh well, of course that may be different. I don't pretend to be a military expert...." "I hate the Germans," said Anonyma, "because they have spoilt my own idea of them. I hate having a mistake brought home to me." "I hate the Germans," began Mr. Russell, "because "
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