Dolly Dialogues by Anthony Hope
page 69 of 176 (39%)
page 69 of 176 (39%)
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carelessness.
"I was on the pier," pursued Mrs. Hilary. "I had a red frock on, I remember, and one of those big hats they wore that year. Hilary wore--" "Blue serge," I interpolated, encouragingly. "Yes, blue serge," said she fondly. "He had been yachting, and he was beautifully burnt. I was horribly burnt--wasn't I, Hilary?" Hilary began to pat the dog. "Then we got to know one another." "Stop a minute," said I. "How did that happen?" Mrs. Hilary blushed. "Well, we were both always on the pier," she explained. "And--and somehow Hilary got to know father, and--and father introduced him to me." "I'm glad it was no worse," said I. I was considering Miss Phyllis, who sat listening, open-eyed. "And then you know, father wasn't always there; and once or twice we met on the cliff. Do you remember that morning, Hilary?" "What morning?" asked Hilary, patting the dog with immense |
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