Disillusion stands in one doorway of our house and Mockery in the other. “Are you sorry you waited, aunt?” she said. If only there had not been this single torturing thought—a mere pin-prick, but still curiously persistent. She was already a little prepared by her discursive reading and discussion under the Widgett influence for ideas and “movements,” though temperamentally perhaps she was rather disposed to resist and criticise than embrace them. "That is easily explained. Wood!" exclaimed Jack, in surprise. I’m fine. "He can't get out. Eggs were procured for her, and she sat out the subsequent emotions and eloquence with the dignity becoming an injured lady of good family. She had been in the drawing-room for a few minutes before the gong had sounded, and had chattered gaily to every one.
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