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Hichens, Robert Smythe, 1864-1950

"The Woman with the Fan"

I hope you'll bring her
one day," said Lady Holme; thinking more emphatically than ever that for
a woman with a complexion as perfect as hers it was a mistake to wear
many jewels.
"I'll be most pleased, but mother don't go around much," replied Miss
Schley.
"Does she know London?"
"She does not. She spends most of her time sitting around in Susanville,
but she's bound to look after me in this great city."
Mrs. Wolfstein was by this time in violent conversation with a pale young
man, who always looked as if he were on the point of fainting, but who
went literally everywhere. Miss Schley glanced up into Lady Holme's eyes.
"I hoped to make the acquaintance of Lord Holme to-night," she murmured.
"Folks tell me he's a most beautiful man. Isn't he anywhere around?"
She looked away into vacancy, ardently. Lady Holme felt a slight tingling
sensation in her cool skin. For a moment it seemed to her as if she
watched herself in caricature, distorted perhaps by a mirror with a
slight flaw in it.
"My husband was obliged to dine out to-night; unfortunately. I hope he'll
be here in a moment, but he may be kept, as there are to be some dreadful
speeches afterwards. I can't think why elderly men always want to get up
and talk nonsense about the Royal family after a heavy dinner. It's so
bad for the digestion and the--ah, Sir Donald! Sweet of you to turn up.
Your boy's been so unkind. I asked him to call, or he asked to call, and
he's never been near me.


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