'Upon my word, Lesbia, I begin to think you must be a genius.'
'Did you see any gowns you liked better than mine?' asked Lesbia,
reclining reposefully, with her little bronze shoes upon the opposite
cushion.
'Not one--Seraphine has surpassed herself.'
'You are always saying that. One would suppose you were a sleeping
partner in the firm. But I really think this brown and buttercups is
rather nice. I saw that odious American girl just now--Miss--Miss
Milwaukee, that mop-stick girl people raved about at Cannes. She was in
pale blue and cream colour, a milk and water mixture, and looked
positively plain.'
CHAPTER XXVII.
LESBIA CROSSES PICCADILLY.
Lady Kirkbank and Lady Lesbia drove across Piccadilly at eleven o'clock
on Wednesday morning to breakfast with Mr. Smithson, and although Lesbia
had questioned whether it was worth while crossing Piccadilly to eat
one's breakfast, she had subsequently considered it worth while ordering
a new gown from Seraphine for the occasion; or, it may be, rather that
the breakfast made a plausible excuse for a new gown, the pleasure of
ordering which was one of those joys of a London life that had not yet
lost their savour.
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