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If I knew who had given the prize I'd go straight to him," exclaimed Ginny bravely. Uncle Johnny straightened his immaculately gray-trousered legs and laid his straw hat down on the grass. "If that'll help things any I'm he," he explained with a little embarrassment. "You? You? Really Uncle Johnny?" came in an excited chorus. "Yes, me," with a fine scorn for grammar.
Excitement, almost riot, resulted among the much-caparisoned horses, the much-favored coachmen, and the much-beribboned equipages of state. But the noise increased to clamor and eagerness to violence when an ethereal figure in floating tulle and clinging lace was led out into the afternoon light by a more resplendent edition of black-coated, gray-trousered knighthood.
Billy did not see his face, however; she saw only a pair of gray-trousered legs disappearing around the curve of the landing above. She thought nothing of it until later when dinner was announced, and Cyril came down-stairs; then she saw that he, and he only, that afternoon wore trousers of that particular shade of gray. The dinner was a great success.
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