She
read French fluently enough.
'That's delightful,' he said, but he soon noticed she was stumbling over
the words. No, it was not suitable for her to read. He was obstinate,
however, and was determined she should read him something.
* * * * *
So they fell back on _Northanger Abbey_.
CHAPTER XX
Lady Conroy had arrived home in Carlton House Terrace, complaining of a
headache. She remained on the sofa in her sitting-room for about five
minutes, during which time she believed she had been dozing. In reality
she had been looking for her glasses, dropping her bag and ringing the
bell to send a servant for a handkerchief.
She was a handsome woman of thirty-eight, with black hair turning a
little grey, grey Irish eyes and a wonderfully brilliant complexion. She
must have been a remarkably good-looking girl, but now, to her great
vexation, she was growing a little too fat. She varied between
treatments, which she scarcely began before she forgot them, and utter
indifference to her appearance, when she declared she was much happier,
letting herself go in loose gowns, and eating everything of which she
had deprived herself for a day or two for the sake of her figure.
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