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Updated: June 17, 2025
Lois? She'd never say anything against anybody. Lois is a perfect angel.... Isn't she, Laurencine?" Laurencine was being monopolized by Everard. "What did you say?" the girl asked, collecting herself. "I was just saying what an angel Lois is." "Oh, she is!" the younger sister agreed, with immense and sincere emphasis. George, startled, said to himself suddenly: "Was I mistaken in her?
This family knew the meaning of intimacy but not of ceremony. Laurencine sat down at her father's left; George was next to her on Mrs. Ingram's right. Lois had the whole of the opposite side of the table. "Does he know?" Laurencine asked; and turning to George: "Do you know?" "Know what?" "You'd better tell him, dad. You like talking, and he ought to know. I shan't be able to eat if he doesn't.
With one movement he had seized his hat and coat and slid from the box, just as the finale of the act was imminent and the red-nosed comedian was measuring the gay spark for new lingerie with a giant property-cigar. He had not said good-bye to Laurencine. He had not asked about their departure on the morrow. But he was free.
But I propose to carry on my affairs with other men just according to my own ideas, and any interference will be resented. I've had a bad night, owing to the garage again, and I don't feel equal to calling George George. I've only known him about twenty minutes. Moreover, I might be misunderstood, mightn't I, Mr. Cannon?" "You might," said George. "Now, dad!" Laurencine admonished. Mr.
He watched Miss Wheeler and Laurencine disappear into the rich and guarded interior with envy, as though they had entered a delectable paradise to which he could not aspire; and the fact that Miss Wheeler had vaguely invited him to call did not brighten him very much. He had assumed that he would see Lois the angel that night. The young men finished the evening at Pickering's.
"There's no secret about it at least there won't be soon," said Laurencine. Lois spoke simultaneously: "My dear mother, please call George George. If we call him George, you can't possibly call him Mr. Cannon." "I quite admit," Mrs. Ingram replied to her eldest, "I quite admit that you and Laurencine are entitled to criticise my relations with my husband, because he's your father.
Laurencine sprang up with a little girlish scream and ran to him. "Oh! Dearest! Have you got them already? You never told me you would have! How lovely you look!" Blushing with pleasure and pride, she kissed him. It was Everard Lucas.
He envied Lucas, who was talking freely to both Miss Wheeler and Laurencine about what he had ordered for dinner.
There was absolutely no nonsense about her. Now Marguerite was not in the slightest degree ambitious. The word had no significance for her. "I couldn't!" he insisted humbly. "I don't know enough. It's a terrific affair." She made no response. But she looked at him, and suddenly he saw the angel that Irene Wheeler and Laurencine had so enthusiastically spoken of at the Cafe Royal!
Namur had fallen, but the room was full of finery, and the finery claimed attention. And if Paris had fallen, it would have been the same. So he told himself. Nevertheless the spectacle of the heaped finery and its absorbed priestess was very agreeable. Lois rose. Laurencine and the priestess helped her to remove the white gown she wore, and to put on the blue one.
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