"There is no limit to the treachery of youth! I ordered the Hawley Boy, as he
valued my patronage, not to call. The first person I stumble over--literally
stumble over--in her poky, dark, little drawing-room is, of course, the Hawley
Boy. She kept us waiting ten minutes, and then emerged as though he had been
tipped out of the dirty-clothes basket. You know my way, dear, when I am all
put out. I was Superior, crrrushingly Superior! 'Lifted my eyes to Heaven, and
had heard of nothing--'dropped my eyes on the carpet and 'really didn't know'-
-'played with my cardcase and 'supposed so.' The Hawley Boy giggled like a
girl, and I had to freeze him with scowls between the sentences."
"And she?"
"She sat in a heap on the edge of a couch, and managed to convey the
impression that she was suffering from stomach-ache, at the very least. It was
all I could do not to ask after her symptoms. When I rose she grunted just
like a buffalo in the water--too lazy to move."
"Are you certain?"--
"Am I blind, Polly? Laziness, sheer laziness, nothing else--or her garments
were only constructed for sitting down in. I stayed for a quarter of an hour
trying to penetrate the gloom, to guess what her surroundings were like, while
she stuck out her tongue.
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