I like that swing of hers.

All right, my girl; I'm not taken in by that mock shyness.

You wait awhile.

Yes; she's deuced pretty.

I wonder how the old man picked her up!" Celia had gone some distance before she recovered her equanimity.
Certainly, this son of the Marquess was a hateful creature, and she could not help wondering how even so shallow and frivolous a woman as his wife could have married him.