It happened that at the extremest point of Ann Veronica’s social circle from the Widgetts was the family of the Morningside Park horsedealer, a company of extremely dressy and hilarious young women, with one equestrian brother addicted to fancy waistcoats, cigars, and facial spots. He put his arms around her in a circular embrace. In the bad light he looked at once military and sentimental and studious, like one of Ouida’s guardsmen revised by Mr. Only I’m so incensed with that crazy fool Gerald that—oh, well, never mind. Let me go my own way towards them. She was tired, hungry—and thus somewhat impatient for the food Mrs Ibstock might bring—and downcast. Just then, a carriage drawn by four horses, drove furiously up to the Six Bells; but Jack was too much absorbed to take any notice of it. The lunches were individual affairs: sandwiches, bottled olives and jam commandeered from the Victoria. "Vell," he growled, addressing Quilt, "you know who's here, I suppose?" "To be sure I do," replied Quilt; "my noble friend, the Marquis of Slaughterford.
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