His lawful wife; but nothing more; beyond that she was only an idea, a trust. ‘That’s better. She would never again be lonely. But I sent him the longest way about. 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. ’” “What did he say?” “What does any one say to an invitation to dinner point-blank? One tries to collect one’s wits. Mr. “It doesn’t matter,” she said, after a long interval, “if they are absurd. He is extremely old—forty at least—and he has a belly excessively fat. He was just getting cross about your being late for dinner—you know his way—when it came. " "Ah!" shrieked Lady Trafford.
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