"The shoulder-clappers!" added a lady, who, in her anxiety to join the party, had unintentionally substituted her husband's nether habiliments for her own petticoats. The major’s hand stilled. Better check on Remenham House, I suppose. ‘A little promenade, madame?’ Madame Valade rose from the chintz-covered chair with alacrity and a little rustle of her silken petticoats. ” “You can’t be that,” said Ann Veronica, wisely. It was a perfect windless spring day, a Sunday. Everything. “Indeed, you could have no more faithful friend, you could find no one more anxious to serve you. ’ ‘And me,’ came the guttural response, ‘I will certainly murder you the very next time I am compelled to see your face.
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