For a moment her thoughts led her back to the evening when she and Courtlaw had stood together before the window of her studio in Paris, before the coming of Sir John had made so many changes in her life. Hadn’t they settled that already? “I want you as a friend,” he persisted, almost as if he disputed something. " "Hold your tongue, hussy!" cried her husband gruffly. "That's for myself," rejoined Mrs. Goopes when at home dressed simply in a pajama-shaped suit of canvas sacking tied with brown ribbons, while his wife wore a purple djibbah with a richly embroidered yoke. She smiled mechanically at the audience, holding her violin limply, feeling the hot lights on her made-up face.
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