"I don't believe it," said I. "People have been telling you that
I am a vile, wicked man who does unspeakable things, and like a
good little girl you are afraid to talk to me. Tell people, the
next time you see them, with my compliments, that they are
malevolent geese."
I lifted my hat and relieving Rosalie of my terrifying presence,
walked away in dudgeon. I felt abominably and unreasonably angry.
I bethought me of my Aunt Jessica, whom I held responsible for
her niece's behaviour. A militant mood prompted a call. After
twenty minutes in a hansom I found myself in her drawing-room.
She was alone, the girls being away on country- house visits.
Her reception was glacial. I expressed the hope that the
yachting cruise had been a pleasant one.
"Exceedingly pleasant," snapped my aunt.
"I trust Dora is well," said I, keeping from my lips a smile that
might have hinted at the broken heart.
"Very well, thank you."
As I do not enjoy a staccato conversation, I remained politely
silent, inviting her by my attitude to speak.
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