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Wood, Henry, Mrs., 1814-1887

"Verner's Pride"


It caused him to turn abruptly. Breaking off in the midst of a sentence,
he quitted the countess and went to meet those who had entered. Lady
Verner's greeting was a somewhat elaborate one, and he looked round
impatiently for Decima.
She stood in the shade behind her mother. Decima? Was _that_ Decima?
What had she done to her cheeks? They wore the crimson hectic which were
all too characteristic of Sibylla's. Sir Edmund took her hand.
"I trust you are well?"
"Quite well, thank you," was her murmured answer, drawing away the hand
which had barely touched his.
Nothing could be more quiet than the meeting, nothing more simple than
the words spoken; nothing, it may be said, more commonplace. But that
Decima was suffering from some intense agitation, there could be no
doubt; and the next moment her face had turned of that same ghastly hue
which had startled her brother Lionel when he was handing her into the
carriage. Sir Edmund continued speaking with them a few minutes, and
then was called off to receive other guests.
"Have you forgotten how to dance, Edmund?"
The question came from Miss Hautley, disturbing him as he made the
centre of a group to whom he was speaking of his Indian life.


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