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Glyn, Elinor, 1864-1943

"Red Hair"

"
"Poor Lord Robert!" I said, but I felt my cheeks burn.
"Yes, is it not tiresome for him? So, of course, he cannot marry until his
brother's death, there is almost no one in England suitable."
"It is not so bad, after all," I said; "there is always the delicious role
of the 'married woman's pet,' open to him, isn't there?" and I laughed.
"Little cat!" but she wasn't angry.
"I told you I only scratched when I was scratched first," I said, as I
went out of the room.
The angels had started for their walk, and Veronique had to come with me
at first to find them. We were walking fast down the path beyond Stanhope
Gate, seeing their blue velvet pelisses in the distance, when we met Mr.
Carruthers.
He stopped and turned with me.
"Evangeline, I was so angry with you yesterday," he said. "I very nearly
left London and abandoned you to your fate, but now that I have seen you
again--" He paused.
"You think Paris is a long way off!" I said, innocently.
"What have they been telling you?" he said, sternly, but he was not quite
comfortable.
"They have been saying it is a fine November, and the Stock Exchange is no
place to play in, and if it weren't for bridge they would all commit
suicide. That is what we talk of at Park Street."
"You know very well what I mean. What have they been telling you about
me?"
"Nothing, except that there is a charming French lady who adores you, and
whom you are devoted to--and I am so sympathetic.


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