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"Now we can go on our spree with clear minds," said Judith, as they sat down to breakfast in the sunny sitting-room. "It's a perfect day and Rockham will look too sweet for anything." "Everything goes so smoothly," she confided to Miss Jinny one day at the end of the fortnight. "It sounds monotonous, but I don't mean it that way at all. We're all so naturally polite and agreeable. We don't seem to have to force ourselves a bit." "You don't mean?" began Patricia, incredulously..

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"Just look at that mournful creature." Patricia motioned with her eyebrows to the opposite side of the room, where a large, stout young woman in somber cloak and wide-plumed hat was eating her way through a chocolate éclair with just such an air of tragic and settled melancholy as one sometimes sees in a child whose grief is momentarily its most cherished possession. Griffin held out a hand for Judith's envelope. "You'll verify these, Kendall?" she said brusquely, pushing the bulky oblong across the table to Elinor. Lieutenant Maurice Alymer was also blonde, and also had blue eyes and a jaunty mustache, somewhat smaller than his senior's. His hair was yellow and curly, his features were boldly cut, and his six foot of flesh and muscle was straight and lithe. Athlete was stamped strongly on his appearance, and if not clever, he was at least sufficiently good-looking and good-natured to make him almost as popular as the major. Jen always maintained that Maurice was the living image of himself when a dashing young officer, out in Ashantee; but as the good major was considerably under the middle height and Maurice considerably over it, this statement must be accepted with some reserve. It passed as one of Jen's jokes, for a mild quality of which he was noted. "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.".