"Eh--an hour? But, my dear fellow, you came to see her--over the wall,
you know,--she said so, and--"
"She said so, yes, Marquis, but--"
"But? Oh, I see! Ah, to be sure! She is my great-aunt, of course,
and my great-aunt, Beverley, generally thinks, and does, and
says--exactly what she pleases. Begad! you never can tell what she'
11 be up to next,--consequently every one is afraid of her, even
those high goddesses of the beau monde, those exclusive grandes dames,
my Ladies Castlereagh, Jersey, Cowper and the rest of 'em--they're
all afraid of my small great-aunt, and no wonder! You see, she's
old--older than she looks, and--with a perfectly diabolical memory!
She knows not only all their own peccadillos, but the sins of their
great-grandmothers as well. She fears nothing on the earth, or under
the earth, and respects no one--not even me. Only about half an hour
ago she informed me that I was a--well, she told me precisely what I
was,--and she can be painfully blunt, Beverley,--just because Cleone
happens to have refused me again."
"Again?" said Barnabas inquiringly.
"Oh, yes! She does it regularly. Begad! she's refused me so often
that it's grown into a kind of formula with us now.
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