“Who?” She asked. Flowers, theatre boxes, carriages, the “open sesame” to the whole world of pleasure. A slow heavy thumping started up in Melusine’s chest, and she scarcely took in the astonished silence in those present in the room. Pole coolies came joggling along with bobbing blocks of jade—white jade, splashed and veined with translucent emerald green. It was he who saw them first coming down the room—Annabel in a wonderful white satin gown in front, and Sir John stiff, unbending, disapproving, bringing up the rear. It seemed to her that her father was in some inexplicable way meaner-looking than she had supposed, and yet also, as unaccountably, appealing.
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