Sensing his discomfort, she stood up and brushed lint off of the hem of her gray miniskirt. ’ He turned to the goggling footman and thrust him towards the coach. At this moment, his quick ears detected the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Constance Widgett’s abundant copper-red hair was bent down over some dimly remunerative work—stencilling in colors upon rough, white material—at a kitchen table she had dragged up-stairs for the purpose, while on her bed there was seated a slender lady of thirty or so in a dingy green dress, whom Constance had introduced with a wave of her hand as Miss Miniver. Just now my best ones are all taken. Her father’s step quickened to a trot. Come now, I am very glad to see you again so soon, mademoiselle whatever-your-name-is. He played variations on this theme for the better part of an hour. Then for the first time she was conscious of an unaccountable and terrifying sensation. Glad to get back, I’m sure,” he said briskly.
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