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Dont, cried Mrs. Rivington shrilly, gauging in ten seconds the probable cost of Claudias dress. Im an Imperialist, and I wave flags and put up bunting and do all sorts of loyal things, and the red on a Union Jack doesnt agree with my complexion, so I really am quite genuine and what-you-may-call-it. Dont run down the King to me. She fluttered off, her eyes roving restlessly over the couples she was pairing.It was only a sick mans fancy; it must be. And yet Gilbert had had no other kind of irrational fancies. He had remained his old egotistical self, multiplied by about four. Her voice was a little agitated as she put her next question.he murmured.As he looked at the beautiful vivid woman among the cushions of the armchair, he recalled the quiet, orderly life he had led with the one who had borne his name,[244] the lack of anything approaching exaltation or beauty in their relationship, the prosaic monotony of their days, and he wondered if he had not been the greatest of Gods fools. What would life be with such a woman as the one Who now sat plaiting her fingers in her lap, her very finger-tips pulsating with life? The magnetism of her womanhood reached him as he stood, and made his breath come more quickly. They had so much in common already, was it too wild and venturesome to hope that they might have more?!

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Strange fascination these creatures have for men, commented her hostess, glancing round to see that the other women were occupied. Never can understand it myself. How a man can fall in love with powderseveral inches thickand grease paint beats me. But men are so easily taken in, arent they? and of course we should be too proud to use their arts.Seated close together, talking very earnestly, Pat more excited than she had ever seen her, were the two whom Frank had seen disappear half an hour before. As a matter of fact, it had only been ten minutes, but Frank had always had his doubts of Colins friendship.

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Claudia attributed the remarks to ill-nature on Mrs. Rivingtons part, for her chief occupation in life was planting arrows as often as she could in the weak spots in her friends armour. Claudia could afford to smile serenely in reply. Did she not know whom Frank loved? A woman rather enjoys a clandestine love-affair, and Claudia hugged to herself her closer knowledge of Franks inner life. She knew she was the core of it.

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But what shall I say? she protested laughingly, for, womanlike, she loved a high-handed man who insists on getting his own way.
She saw, as she looked in his face, that he did not understand, that she could never make him understand. She had mortally wounded his pride. He would never forgive the thrust.
No, except poor Fay, you know. She has got to look forward to my going to her constantly.。

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Yes?