She, with the same lively imagination, had pictured Michael in a velveteen coat and soft shirt, the pianist as very small, with spectacles and long hair, and the prima donna a full-blown kind of barmaid with Roman pearls.

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"Yes, my dear, I know I am late," she began before she was inside the door, "but Og had so much to say, and there was a block at Hyde Park Corner.

My dear Michael, how smart you look!" She came round the corner of the screen and the Falbes burst upon her, Hermann and Sylvia standing by the fire.