’ Footsteps sounded just outside, and Captain Roding walked in. And turning again, as if the emotions she had churned up kept her on the move, she paced back to the mantel and there stopped, staring at her own reflection in the tarnished mirror. “What a hideous repertoire! If you are in earnest about wanting to earn money, why on earth don’t you accept an engagement here?” “An engagement?” she queried. “That’s not working so well for you, is it?” She looked at him sheepishly, bringing a Kleenex out of her pocket to wipe away the excess. "The only disguise I ever put on is a dress-suit, and I look as natural as a pig at a Mahomedan dinner. " "None whatever," rejoined Wild. It was Celeste’s idea. As she danced there was in her ears the faded echo of wooden tom-toms. There was the cottage she had inhabited for so many years,—in those fields she had rambled,—at that church she had prayed.
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