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"No more of that. Dido. You know that I love Maurice; I wish to marry him. Why are you so bitter against him?",Mrs. Dallas was a large, fat and eminently lazy woman, who passed most of her time in knitting or sleeping or eating. Her husband had died before she had come to England, and it was the desire to preserve her daughter's health which had brought her so far from the sun-baked islands which her soul loved.,Pinning on her hat hastily, she fled after Elinor, feeling that she must seem most inexperienced and childish in the eyes of this fascinating creature who at once had eclipsed all previous claimants to her admiration.,"I am disgusted with her, too," said Mrs. Dallas, indorsing the major's exclamation.,"I never thought of such a thing," protested Jen. "I do not suspect you.","I'm going to write!" she declared, dramatically waving the stocking about. "This is truly inspiring!","Did you see the Haldens on the train, Frad?" asked Patricia as she and David were talking aside by the studio window while Elinor was welcoming Tom Hughes and Griffin, Margaret Howes and Mr. Spicer, who had all arrived in a bunch, Tom having lagged behind to get a big sheaf of roses for Elinor, whom he admired immensely.,"I can't tell you that just now," he said, in a hesitating manner. "But I know it for certain.","Major," she said, when somewhat out of breath he had taken his seat beside her in the summer-house, "although I relate what inculpates my mother, it is to save her that I do so. Both she and I are in a net woven by Dido.","Not until after the body had been stolen," returned Jen, mindful that Isabella had come into the library dry-shod.,"Are you alluding to Dido?" demanded Jen, rather surprised at her tone.,Their new acquaintance of the corridor stopped at their table as she, too, made her way out..