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What's Bred in the Bone by Grant Allen
page 49 of 368 (13%)
better have a look at her beforehand, so to speak, on approbation."

The Holkers' grounds were large and well planted, with velvety lawns
on the slope of a well-wooded hill overlooking the boundless blue
weald of Surrey. Nevitt and the Warings were late to arrive, and
found most of the guests already assembled before them.

After a time Guy found himself, to his intense chagrin, told off by
his hostess to do the honours to an amiable old lady of high tonnage
and great conversational powers, who rattled on uninterruptedly in
one silvery stream about everybody on the ground, their histories
and their pedigrees. She took the talking so completely off his
hands, however, that, after a very few minutes, Guy, who was by
nature of a lazy and contemplative disposition, had almost ceased
to trouble himself about what she said, interposing "indeeds" and
"reallys" with automatic politeness at measured intervals; when
suddenly the old lady, coming upon a bench where a mother and
daughter were seated in the shade, settled down by their sides in
a fervour of welcome, and shook hands with them both effusively in
a most demonstrative fashion.

The daughter was pretty--yes, distinctly pretty. She attracted Guy's
attention at once by the piercing keenness of her lustrous dark
eyes, and the delicate olive-brown of her transparent complexion.
Her expression was merry, but with a strange and attractive undertone,
he thought, of some mysterious charm. A more taking girl, indeed,
now he came to look close, he hadn't seen for months. He congratulated
himself on his garrulous old lady's choice of a bench to sit upon,
if it helped him to an introduction to the beautiful stranger.

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