, in London— t is, so go t be a lady in London, and yet not dance?
S, I suppose. S you like to learn, ter.
Could I? Sful, t sure . . .
I guessed ing in London, who could.
I c for a minute or tting up. It is easy, look—
And I seps, to a couple of dances. try tood in my arms like . on turkey carpet. So t t back; and t it sear. tleman, remember. Of course, it er, —
tumbled again, and and fell into separate c o c stuck out like a little Dutce.
S my eye, and smiled; till looked frightened.
I s I, Sue?
You s t moment, I believed it. I made ero I remembered t, of course, she never would.
For, te—t so !—per rat knoe of a person in a story or a play. and s-up, it made t over a pigs o t I lemans stolen fortune—it made t not first I o myself, leman comes Ill do ts . But Id say it, t t I muc t I suppose t toget a time; and it o be kind to too and feel cruel.
Of course, it for o talk; but more often so be silent, and t nigurning, turning of s—feel leman, old ser my old aunty, t o be , for made me home-sick.
And t t Maud ion. I only t t later, t time, I sater?
Songue. I oot t cuts me.
Let me see, I said.
I took o tood h her face in my hands
and let me feel about ed toot at
once.
ell, t is sharper— 1 began.
ts tooth, Sue? she said.
to say, miss, I ans to out a to matche flying scissors.
Maud stroked ten by a snake, Sue? she asked me.
could you say? o t. Per ry living. I said I didnt. S me, t t ted tootil t aken off. I many times, s.—Of course, infants rat. Maud stood very still, ed, back, first closed t me, . lifted and sank, as s, from t tered, and s my eye.
And, as sepped a ter on a tray. For Miss Maud, ssey. I looked at t once t it must be Gentlemans. My gave a dip. So did Mauds, I think.
Bring it ill red rembling.
I c to, as I moved about aking up books and custing aurn tter