"Mr. Masters has
been kind enough to lend them to me."
"Oh--h--h, naughty puss! What would Howard say if he found you out?"
Masters, who stood on the hearth rug, looked down at her with an
expression, which, she afterward confessed, sent shivers up her
spine. "Talbot is a great friend of mine," he said with deliberate
emphasis, "and not likely to object to his wife's sharing my library."
"Don't be too sure. The whole town knows that Howard detests
bluestockings and would rather his wife had a good honest flirtation
than stuffed her brains.... Pretty little head." She tweaked
Madeleine's scarlet ear. "Mustn't put too much in it."
"I'm afraid it doesn't hold much," said Madeleine smiling; and
fancied she heard a bell in her depths toll: "It's going to end! It's
going to end!" And for the first time in her life she felt like
fainting.
She went hurriedly over to the cupboard and poured herself out a
glass of port wine. "I had almost forgotten my tonic," she said. "It
has made me quite well again."
"Your improvement is nothing short of miraculous," said the old lady
drily. "It is the talk of the town. But you are ungrateful if you
don't give all those interesting books some of the credit. I hope
Howard is properly grateful to Mr. Masters...
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