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The Best British Short Stories of 1922 by Unknown
page 49 of 482 (10%)
your age still," she lied desperately.

Miss Deane straightened her back and toyed with a teaspoon. "I have
always taken great care of myself," she said.

Unquestionably she believed it, Rachel decided. This was no pose, but a
horrible piece of self-deception. This raddled, repulsive creature had
actually persuaded herself into the delusion that she still had the
appearance of a young girl. Heaven help her if that delusion were ever
shattered!

Yet outside this one obsession Miss Deane, as Rachel soon discovered,
had a clear and well-balanced mind. For, now that she had received her
desired assurance from this new quarter, she began to talk of other
things. Her boasted "modernism," it is true, had a smack of the stiff,
broadcloth savour of the eighties, but she had a point of view that
coincided far more nearly with Rachel's own than did that of her
father. Her aunt, at least, had outlived the worst superstitions and
inanities of the mid-Victorians.

Indeed, by the time tea was finished Rachel's spirits were beginning to
revive. She would have to be very careful in her treatment of her aunt,
but on the whole it would not perhaps be so bad; and presently she
would see Adrian again. She would almost certainly get a letter from
him by the last post, making some appointment to meet her, and after
that she would introduce him to Miss Deane. She had a feeling that Miss
Deane would not raise any objection; that she might even welcome the
visit of a young man to her house.

The time was passing so easily that Rachel was surprised when she heard
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