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Smith, Francis Hopkinson, 1838-1915

"Peter: a novel of which he is not the hero"

"Miss
MacFarlane isn't at all my kind of a girl," Corinne had declared
to Garry. "Really, I can't see why the men rave over her. Pretty?
--yes, sort of so-so; but no style, and SUCH clothes! Fancy wearing
a pink lawn and a sash tied around her waist like a girl at a
college commencement--and as to her hair--why no one has ever
THOUGHT of dressing her hair that way for AGES and AGES."
Her mind thus relieved, my Lady Wren had made a survey of the
rooms, wondering what they wanted with so many funny old
portraits, and whether the old gentleman or his sister read the
dusty books, Garry remarking that there were a lot of "swells"
among the young fellows, many of whom he had heard of but had
never met before. This done, the two wedged their way out, without
ever troubling Peter or Miss Felicia with their good-bys, Garry
telling Corinne that the old lady wouldn't know they were gone,
and Corinne adding under her breath that it didn't make any
difference to her if she did.


CHAPTER IX


But Jack stayed on.


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