"But I can
guess what it's for. Pottiswick had mentioned muttering. A man's laced hat,—whether adopted from the caprice of the moment, or
habitually worn, we are unable to state,—cocked knowingly on her head,
harmonized with her masculine appearance. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work,
you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to and accept all the terms of
this license and intellectual property (trademark/copyright) agreement. Yet her aunt, with a ringed hand flitting to
her lips and a puzzled, worried look in her eyes, deaf to all this riot of warmth
and flitting desire, was playing Patience—playing Patience, as if Dionysius and
her curate had died together. I mean that it doesn’t interest you in
itself. But she was relentless.
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