After some little time, which, to Zoe's impatience, seemed very long, she
heard the opening and shutting of a door, then the voices of Mr. Dinsmore,
his daughter, and Edward in conversation, as they came down the hall
together.
"He has been to see his mother first," she pouted. "I think a man ought
always to put his wife first." And turning her back to the door, she took
up a book and made a pretence of being deeply interested in its perusal.
Edward's step, however, passed on into the dressing-room, and as she heard
him moving about there, she grew more and more vexed. It seemed that he
was in no great haste to greet her after this their first day's
separation; he could put it off, not only for a visit to his mother in her
private apartments, but also until he had gone through the somewhat
lengthened duties of the toilet.
Well, she would show him that she, too, could wait--could be as cool and
indifferent as himself. She assumed a graceful attitude in an easy-chair,
her pretty little feet upon a velvet-cushioned stool, and with her book
lying in her lap listened intently to every sound coming from the
adjoining room.
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