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Updated: May 25, 2025
The only trouble was to make him get up in time for it. "Mr. Cecil, sir; if you please, the drag will be round in ten minutes," said Rake, with a dash of desperation for the seventh time into his chamber, one fine scenting morning. "I don't please," answered Cecil sleepily, finishing his cup of coffee, and reading a novel of La Demirep's.
Do be logical, Seraph." "Get up!" cried the Seraph with a deafening rataplan, and a final dash of his colossal stature into the chamber. "We've all done breakfast; the traps are coming round; you'll be an hour behind time at the meet." Bertie lifted his eyes with plaintive resignation from the Demirep's yellow-papered romance.
Here is no invasion and conquest of the weaker nature by the stronger, but an equal league of souls, each in its own realm still sovereign. Turn from such letters as these to those of St. Preux and Julie, and you are stifled with the heavy perfume of a demirep's boudoir, to those of Herder to his Caroline, and you sniff no doubtful odor of professional unction from the sermon-case. Manly old Dr.
Unlimited sodas, three pipes smoked silently over Delphine Demirep's last novel, a bath well dashed with eau de cologne, and some glasses of Anisette after the fatigue-duty of unharnessing, restored him a little; but he was still weary and depressed into gentler languor than ever through all the courses at a dinner party at the Austrian Embassy, and did not recover his dejection at a reception of the Duchess of Lydiard-Tregoze, where the prettiest French Countess of her time asked him if anything was the matter.
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