Vizard, unconscious of her arrival, was walking up and down the room,
fidgeting more and more, when in came Zoe, dressed high in black silk and
white lace, looking ever so cozy, and blooming like a rose.
"What!" said he; "in, and dressed." He took her by the shoulders and gave
her a great kiss. "You young monkey!" said he, "I was afraid you were
washed away."
Zoe suggested that would only have been a woman obliterated.
"That is true," said he, with an air of hearty conviction. "I forgot
that."
He then inquired if she had had a nice walk.
"Oh, beautiful! Imprisoned half the time in a cow-shed, and then
drenched. But I'll have a nice walk with you, dear, up and down the
room."
"Come on, then."
So she put her right hand on his left shoulder, and gave him her left
hand, and they walked up and down the room, Zoe beaming with happiness
and affection for everybody and walking at a graceful bend.
Severne came in, dressed as perfect as though just taken out of a
bandbox. He sat down at a little table, and read a little journal
unobtrusively. It was his cue to divest his late _te'te-'a-te'te_ of
public importance.
Then came dinner, and two of the party absent.
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