She dropped it again where she had found it, and made off home with
guilty swiftness.
Yes, there had been, this time, a distinctly metallic ring in old Mr.
Saffron's voice.
CHAPTER X
THE MAGICAL WORD MOROCCO!
When Mary arrived home, she found Cynthia and Captain Alec still in
possession of the drawing-room; their manner accused her legitimate entry
into the room of being an outrageous intrusion. She took no heed of that,
and indeed little heed of them. To tell the truth, she was ashamed to
confess, but it was the truth, she felt rather tired of them that
evening. Their affair deserved every laudatory epithet, except that of
interesting; so she declared peevishly within herself as she tried to
join in conversation with them. It was no use. They talked on, and in
justice to them it may be urged that they were fully as bored with Mary
as she was with them; so naturally their talents did not shine their
brightest. But they had plenty to say to one another, and dutifully threw
in a question or a reference to Mary every now and then. Sitting apart
at the other end of the long low room--it ran through the whole depth of
her old-fashioned dwelling--she barely heeded and barely answered.
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