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. Get out your pad and pencil. “Just come to that seat now you are here, Miss Stanley, and look down the other path; there’s a vista of just the common sort. “I wonder which of us enjoys that most,” said Capes—“does he, or do we?” “He seems to get a zest—” “He does it and forgets it. ’ ‘Why did you not claim it yourself?’ asked Gerald. She put a stool for him at a little distance from her own, and after he had seen the day’s work he hesitated, and then plunged into a resumption of their discussion about beauty. Frequently she would doze in her chair; but the slightest movement on the bed aroused her. Whatever happened she need never return to that possibility. "Again," cried Jonathan, sternly: "beware!" "What!" vociferated Trenchard. ‘Then he went stark staring crazy, if you ask me. He meditated, and began a new paragraph. ’ *** Martha sniffed dolefully, scrubbing at her reddened eyes with a large square of damp linen. ” “And that, I suppose,” he said, waving his stick towards Mr.
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