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Black, William, 1841-1898

"Prince Fortunatus"

They're too rare nowadays. I know
one or two gentlemen who might be improved by a little more devotion
and--and chivalry. But it's all persiflage nowadays. Everything is
_connu_--"
"Behind the scenes, perhaps; but it's different when you import the
fresh, the ingenuous element from the outer world," said he (but what
interest had he in the discussion?--he did not wear his heart on his
sleeve for Miss Burgoyne to peck at). "Aren't you going to take Mr.
Miles down with you?"
"Poor Percy!" said the now muffled voice (perhaps she had a pin in her
teeth, or perhaps she was still further touching-up her lips), "I
suppose he would come if he were invited; but he doesn't know any of
them."
"Why don't you ask Lehmann for an invitation for him?"
"What do you mean, Mr. Moore?" demanded the voice--sharply enough now.
"Oh, nothing."
"I consider you are very impertinent. Why should I ask for an invitation
for Mr. Miles? What would that imply? Do you suppose I particularly wish
him to be there?"
"Oh, I didn't mean to offend," Lionel said, quite humbly. "Only--you
see--the other night you showed me that ingenious dodge of covering the
ring you wear with a bit of white india-rubber--and--and I thought it
might be an engagement ring--worn on that finger--"
"Then you're quite wrong, Mr.


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