"No, it isn't that . . .Miss Toms is a very nice woman. Only--"
"You think it's not natural of me to take an interest in some one
who's a little off his head like Mr. Toms."
"Well, dear, perhaps there is something--"
Maggie laughed. "I'm a little off my head too. Oh! you needn't look
so shocked, Grace. You know you think it, and every one else here
thinks it too. Now, Grace, confess. You're beginning to be horrified
that Paul married me."
"Please, Maggie--" said Paul, who hated scenes. Grace was always
flushed by a direct attack. Her eyes gazed in despair about her
while she plunged about in her mind.
"Maggie, you mustn't say such things--no, you mustn't. Of course
it's true that you've got more to learn than I thought. You ARE
careless, dear, aren't you? You remember yesterday that you promised
to look in at Pettits and get a reel of cotton, and then of course
Mr. Toms is a good little man--every one says so--but at the same
time he's QUEER, you must admit that, Maggie; indeed it wasn't
really very long ago that he asked Mrs. Maxse in the High Street to
take all her clothes off so that he could see what she was really
made of.
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