Superseded by May Sinclair
page 50 of 104 (48%)
page 50 of 104 (48%)
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off? It might be so; his courtesy was so infinitely subtle. He had
actually turned and was walking her way now. "And how is _Sordello?_" he asked, the tone of his inquiry suggesting that there was something seriously the matter with _Sordello_. "Getting on. Only fifty-six pages more." "You _are_ advancing, Miss Quincey--gaining on him by leaps and bounds. You're not overdoing it, I hope?" "Oh no, I read a little in the evenings--I have to keep up to the standard of the staff. Indeed," she added, turning with a sudden suicidal panic, "I ought to be at home and working now." "What? On a half-holiday? It _is_ a half-holiday?" "For some people--not for me." His eyes--she could not be mistaken--were taking her in as they had done before. "And why not for you? Do you know, you're looking horribly tired. Suppose we sit down a bit." Miss Quincey admitted that it would be very nice. "Hadn't you better put your cape on--the wind's changing." She obeyed him. |
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