" "He had better bring half-a-dozen," said the Amazon, taking up a cloth-yard wand, and quietly seating herself; "one won't do. “I knew you would feel it,” said Miss Miniver, as they came away flushed and heated. Her eyes were soft and blue, arched over by dark brows, and fringed by long silken lashes. He kept at it even on those nights when the monsoon began to break with heavy storms and he had to weight down with stones everything on his table. She wrote it down. You had better go to bed. Another long interval elapsed. Fine woman, Lady Trafford—a little on the wane though.
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