” With a murmured word of excuse she glided away, and Courtlaw, who had come with a mission which seemed to him to be one of life or death, was left to listen to the latest art jargon from Chelsea. She was not a reversion to type, which intimates the primordial; she suggested rather the incarnation of some goddess of the South Seas. She got into rows through meddling with their shoes and tennis-rackets, and had moments of carefully concealed admiration when she was privileged to see them just before her bedtime, rather radiantly dressed in white or pink or amber and prepared to go out with her mother. As sure as you're sitting there, Mr. An extra pair of gym clothes materialized within fractions of a second.
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