Her father’s ideas of expostulation were a little harsh and forcible, and over the claret-colored table-cloth and under the gas chandelier, with his hat and umbrella between them like the mace in Parliament, he and his daughter contrived to have a violent quarrel. He lifted her from the floor. “‘A SONG OF LADIES AND MY LADY “‘Saintly white and a lily is Mary, Margaret’s violets, sweet and shy; Green and dewy is Nellie-bud fairy, Forget-me-nots live in Gwendolen’s eye. Her hair, once red, faded to a thin gray that she kept cut into a practical short bob. His shoulders were bent, his face was furrowed with wrinkles. She had been carrying them, he assumed, but then again the school had some particularly talented kids among the usual ruffians. ” She could not go on, for she was laughing and crying at the same time. . ‘You will like to marry me, yes?’ she pursued.
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