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"Well!" said Ina, when she saw this coiffure, and frankly examined it, head well back, tongue meditatively teasing at her lower lip. For travel Lulu was again wearing Ina's linen duster the old one. Ninian appeared, in a sack coat and his diamond.
"It is a tremendous undertaking to make a wedding." "How do the preparations go on?" asked Carroll, while Ina bent over her plate with a half-annoyed, half-pleased expression. "Very well," replied Mrs. Carroll. "Ina's things are lovely, and the dressmaker is so pleased that we gave her the trousseau. It will be a lovely wedding." "Where have you been all the week?"
Smith was enchanted with Ina's singing, or pretended. Ashmead was delighted with him, or pretended. "Introduce me to her," said Smith. "I dare not do that. You are not professional, are you?" "No, but you can say I am, for a lark." Ashmead said he should like to; but it would not do, unless he was very wary. "Oh, I'm fly," said the other. "She won't get anything out of me.
She had on the wool chally, long sacred to the nights when she must combine her servant's estate with the quality of being Ina's sister. She wore her coral beads and her cameo cross. In her absence she had caught the trick of dressing her hair so that it looked even more abundant but she had not dared to try it so until to-night, when Dwight was gone.
So at last Dwight said tentatively at lunch: "What if I brought that Neil Cornish up for supper, one of these nights?" "Oh, Dwightie, do," said Ina. "If there's a man in town, let's know it." "What if I brought him up to-night?" Up went Ina's eyebrows. To-night? "'Scalloped potatoes and meat loaf and sauce and bread and butter," Lulu contributed. Cornish came to supper.
Remember the date the letter was written because of the quick time it made. Most of our mail took from six weeks to eternity. What are you smiling at, Bobs?" "Just a little you don't mind, do you? at your saying you remember Ina's letter by the quick time it made in reaching you." "Who bought your house, Barbara?" I asked her. "Dr. Bowman or rather Mrs.
On my honor, Bronse, I never mentioned your name or Ina's. The Chinaman told him that about some woman coming that evening " "Mr. Vandeman," I broke in, "there's no use beating about the bush. Chung recognized your wife's voice. She was the woman who came weeping to get those diary leaves." He took that with astonishing quietness, and,
He praised me, he thanked me, he blessed me; but he left me. It was a beautiful letter, but it was the death-warrant of my heart. I was abandoned." Ashmead started up and walked very briskly, with a great appearance of business requiring vast dispatch, to the other end of the salle; and there, being out of Ina's hearing, he spoke his mind to a candlestick with three branches. "D n him!
Here at Ina's court we kept up the old custom of drinking the first cup with all solemnity, and making some vows thereover. This cup was, of course, to be drunk by the host, and after him by any whom he would name, or would take a vow on him.
They had given me a long Welsh cloak of crimson, fur bordered, and a cap to wear with it instead of my helm. And of course I had not on my mail, though Ina's sword was at my side, and Gerent's bracelet on my arm, setting off a strange medley of black-and-blue bruises and red chafed places from the cords, moreover.
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