Hilda - A Story of Calcutta by Sara Jeannette Duncan
page 47 of 305 (15%)
page 47 of 305 (15%)
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even the suburbs of art and literature. But they help to make the
atmosphere that gives us power to work, and if they do that, of course"----the pursed seriousness of her lips gave Alicia the impression that, though the whole world took offence, the expediency of the illustrated interview was beyond discussion. The servant brought them coffee. "Shall we smoke here," said Miss Livingstone, "or in the drawing-room?" "Oh, do you want to? Are you quite sure you like it? Please don't on my account--you really mustn't. Suppose it should make you ill?" If Hilda felt any tinge of amusement she kept it out of her face. Nothing was there but cheerful concern. "It won't make me ill." Alicia lifted her chin with delicate assertiveness. "I suppose you do smoke, don't you?" "Occasionally--with some people. Honestly, have you ever done it before?" "Four times," said Alicia, and then turned rose-colour with the apprehension that it sounded amateurish to have counted them. "I thought it was one of your privileges to do it always, just as you--" "Go to bed with our boots on and put ice down the back of some Serene Highness's neck. I suppose it is, but now and then I prefer to dispense with it. In my bath, for instance, and almost always in omnibuses." "How absurd you are! Then we'll stay here." |
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