The two dogs followed, and I made up the tail of that queer procession.

I hate that stiff, cheerless drawing room anyhow, with all its shiny cases of china and a collection of all the uncomfortable chairs ever designed since Adam.

I wanted to laugh and cry, and when I saw myself in the glass, I couldn't believe that I wasn't a little shivering girl with a ribbon in my hair and white socks." Some one whistled outside.

The girl seized the boy's arm in a sudden panic of fright.
"It's all right," he said.

"It's only the gardener going to his cottage." Joan laughed, and her grip relaxed.