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James, Henry, 1843-1916

"The Bostonians, Vol. I (of II)"

But he had lowered his tone to friendly
pleading, and the offensive word was mitigated by his smile.
She moved away from him, backwards, as if he had given her a push. "Ah,
well, now you are reckless," Mrs. Luna remarked, drawing out her ribbons
before the mirror.
"I don't think you would interfere if you knew how little you understand
us," Miss Chancellor said to Ransom.
"Whom do you mean by 'us'--your whole delightful sex? I don't understand
_you_, Miss Olive."
"Come away with me, and I'll explain her as we go," Mrs. Luna went on,
having finished her toilet.
Ransom offered his hand in farewell to his hostess; but Olive found it
impossible to do anything but ignore the gesture. She could not have let
him touch her. "Well, then, if you must exhibit her to the multitude,
bring her on to New York," he said, with the same attempt at a light
treatment.
"You'll have _me_ in New York--you don't want any one else!" Mrs. Luna
ejaculated, coquettishly. "I have made up my mind to winter there now."
Olive Chancellor looked from one to the other of her two relatives, one
near and the other distant, but each so little in sympathy with her, and
it came over her that there might be a kind of protection for her in
binding them together, entangling them with each other.


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