Part 2 She found the younger generation of the Widgetts engaged in languid reminiscences, and all, as they expressed it, a “bit decayed. . Hers was beauty on a large scale no doubt; but it was beauty, nevertheless: and the carpenter thought her eyes as bright, her complexion as blooming, and her figure (if a little more buxom) quite as captivating as when he led her to the altar some twenty years ago. ‘I’ll play you at your own game,’ he growled, holding the foreshortened foil in place with rigid control. She felt his whole mind sounding in ecstasy. Martha had been careful to make no mention of Melusine, and did not reply to Mrs Ibstock’s enquiry about the fate of the little babe. ’ She set down her glass with a snap.
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