[The Voice in the Fog by Harold MacGrath]@TWC D-Link book
The Voice in the Fog

CHAPTER XV
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It was not that recognizable mockery of all those visiting Englishmen who held themselves complacently superior to their generous American hosts.

It was as though he were silently laughing at all he saw, at all which happened about him, as if he stood in the midst of some huge joke which he alone was capable of understanding: so Kitty weighed him.
He did not seem to care particularly for women; he never hovered about them, offering little favors and courtesies; rather, he let them come to him.

Nor did he care for dancing.

But he was always ready to make up a table at bridge; and a shrewd capable player he was, too.
The music in the ballroom stopped.
"Will you be so good, Miss Killigrew, as to tell me why you Americans call a palace like this--a cottage ?" Lord Monckton's voice was pleasing, with only a slight accent.
"I'm sure I do not know.

If it were mine, I'd call it a villa." "Quite properly." "Do you like Americans ?" "I have no preference for any people.


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