" "Anything like that?" "Yes; but the colour is lavender. Lead the lad to suppose that he'll be introduced to Lady Trafford. He wiped the sweat from his chin and forehead. ‘No, let me guess,’ he interrupted. Fearful that she had given herself away, she sank back down onto her stool. I see that I am a beast—I beg your pardon, bête—and an imbecile, and an idiot. He did not leave much of an 17 impression. We’re regarded as inflammable litter that mustn’t be left about. "Well, he's a pretty fellow at all events," observed Mrs.
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