Modern Chronicle, a — Volume 03 by Winston Churchill
page 42 of 82 (51%)
page 42 of 82 (51%)
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dissipated. Nevertheless, there was in her words a new undertone of
determination he had never before heard--or, at least, noticed. There was one argument, or panacea, which had generally worked like a charm, although some time had elapsed since last he had resorted to it. He tried to seize and kiss her, but she eluded him. At last he caught her, out of breath, in the corner of the room. "Howard--you'll knock over the lamp--you'll ruin my gown--and then you'll have to buy me another. I DID mean it," she insisted, holding back her head; "you'll have to choose between Rivington and me. It's--it's an ultimatum. There were at least three awfully attractive men at Lily Dallam's tea--I won't tell you who they were--who would be glad to marry me in a minute." He drew her down on the arm of his chair. "Now that Lily has a house in town," he said weakly, "I suppose you think you've got to have one." "Oh, Howard, it is such a dear house. I had no idea that so much could be done with so narrow a front. It's all French, with mirrors and big white panels and satin chairs and sofas, and a carved gilt piano that she got for nothing from a dealer she knows; and church candlesticks. The mirrors give it the effect of being larger than it really is. I've only two criticisms to make: it's too far from Fifth Avenue, and one can scarcely turn around in it without knocking something down--a photograph frame or a flower vase or one of her spindle-legged chairs. It was only a hideous, old-fashioned stone front when she bought it. I suppose nobody but Reggie Farwell could have made anything out of it." |
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