Maggot, eyeing him from head to heel with evident satisfaction;—"a devilish pretty fellow!" "Upon my word, Poll," said Kneebone, becoming very red, "you might have a little more delicacy than to tell him so before my face. Lucia confined herself to her quarters, wondering when they would flee to the country as so many other houses had done. She got into rows through meddling with their shoes and tennis-rackets, and had moments of carefully concealed admiration when she was privileged to see them just before her bedtime, rather radiantly dressed in white or pink or amber and prepared to go out with her mother. All the world about her seemed to be—how can one put it?—in wrappers, like a house when people leave it in the summer.
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