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Updated: June 12, 2025
Then she wrote to invite him to late Sunday breakfast at the Gilsons' they made a function of it, and called it bruncheon. The hour was given as ten-thirty; most people came at noon; but Milt arrived at ten-thirty-one, and found only a sleepy butler in sight. He waited in the drawing-room for five minutes, feeling like a bill-collector.
Warmth and softness and the Gilsons' confident affection wrapped her around; and in contented weariness she mounted to a bedroom of Bakst sketches, a four-poster, and a bedside table with a black and orange electric lamp and a collection of Arthur Symons' essays.
They bore along the lifeless Claire. Mr. Martin was an unentertaining bachelor who entertained. There were a dozen supercilious young married people at his bayside cottage when the Gilsons arrived. Among them were two eyebrow-arching young matrons whom Claire had not met Mrs. Corey and Mrs. Betz. "We've all heard of you, Miss Boltwood," said Mrs. Betz. "You come from the East, don't you?"
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