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Glyn, Elinor, 1864-1943

"Red Hair"

I like Frenchwomen, they
put on their hats so nicely."
"What ridiculous gossip! I don't think Park Street is the place for you to
stay. I thought you had more mind than to chatter like this."
"I suit myself to my company." I laughed, and waited for Veronique, who
had stopped respectfully behind. She came up reluctantly. She disapproves
of all English unconventionality, but she feels it her duty to encourage
Mr. Carruthers.
"Should she run on and stop the young ladies," she suggested, pointing to
the angels in front.
"Yes, do," said Mr. Carruthers, and before I could prevent her she was
off.
Traitress! She was thinking of her own comfortable quarters at Branches, I
know.
The sharp, fresh air got into my head. I felt gay, and without care. I
said heaps of things to Mr. Carruthers, just as I had once before to
Malcolm, only this was much more fun, because Mr. Carruthers isn't a
red-haired Scotchman and can see things.
It seemed a day of meetings, for when we got down to the end we
encountered Lord Robert walking leisurely in our direction. He looked as
black as night when he caught sight of us.
"Hello, Bob!" said Mr. Carruthers, cheerfully. "Ages since I saw you. Will
you come and dine to-night? I have a box for this winter opera that is on,
and I am trying to persuade Miss Travers to come.


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