” “You alarm me,” she murmured, smiling. " "What kind?" "Dickens, Hugo. “Mary!” He whispered loudly. " "What right have you to suppose this, Sir?" demanded Trenchard, sternly. The Yale spirit! James Boyle O'Higgins was, as the saying goes, somewhat out of luck. What with these converging roofs that shut out all but a hand's breadth of the sky, sunshine was rare at this point. With a swirl of her floral chintz petticoats, she placed herself in the capacious window seat, accepted the glass Gerald handed to her, and smiled mischievously up at him. “Idiot!” She raged inwardly while she walked along with that air of self-contained serenity that is proper to a young lady of nearly two-and-twenty under the eye of the world.
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