“Oh God!” she cried, “Oh God!” and flung aside her opera-cloak, and for a time walked about the room—a Corsair’s bride at a crisis of emotion. A great bowl of scarlet carnations gleamed from a dark corner, set against the background of a deep brown wall. Deuce take it! I was very near spelling my name with one P. It will hold aloof, a little undecided whether to pelt or not—” “That depends whether we carry ourselves as though we expected pelting,” said Ann Veronica. CHAPTER V At dinner the spinsters invited Ruth to sit at their table, an invitation she accepted gratefully. Lightheaded, she threw up in the courtyard of the Palazzo as servants crowded her in alarm. The comtesse always felt Madame Valade to be not of her class, of course.
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