That she possessed any sense of humour was in itself one of those human miracles which metaphysicians are always pothering over without arriving anywhere; for her previous environment had been particularly humourless. Epithalamy might do. It was evident the lady’s servant knew his mistress, for he had come equipped with a tray upon which reposed a decanter and two glasses. Then Gosse spoke again, answering the question in her mind. In the struggle her cap fell off. There was enough contra-light to render her ethereal.
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