Of course it's Bowdlerised as to words, but she manages to get back all
that's been taken out in her acting. Young America's crazy about her.
She's going to play over here."
"Oh!"
Lady Holme's voice was not encouraging, but Mrs. Wolfstein was not
sensitive. She chattered gaily all the way to the Haymarket. When they
came into the Palm Court they found Lady Cardington already there, seated
tragically in an armchair, and looking like a weary empress. The band was
playing on the balcony just outside the glass wall which divides the
great dining-room from the court, and several people were dotted about
waiting for friends, or simply killing time by indulging curiosity. Among
them was a large, broad-shouldered young man, with a round face,
contemptuous blue eyes and a mouth with chubby, pouting lips. He was well
dressed, but there was a touch of horseyness in the cut of his trousers,
the arrangement of his tie. He sat close to the band, tipping his green
chair backwards and smoking a cigarette.
As Mrs. Wolfstein and Lady Holme went up to greet Lady Cardington, Sally
Perceval and Mrs. Trent came in together, followed almost immediately by
Lady Manby.
Sally Perceval was a very pretty young married woman, who spent most of
her time racing, gambling and going to house parties. She looked
excessively fragile and consumptive, but had lived hard and never had a
day's illness in her life. She was accomplished, not at all intellectual,
clever at games, a fine horsewoman and an excellent swimmer.
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