How this happened I do not know, and it was so unusual that
it seemed noteworthy. It was not because he was not several times in my
immediate vicinity, but I was always at the moment so engaged with
whomever happened to be talking with me that I had not time to turn and
include the Philosopher in the interview.
When our guests departed they went together, having one and the same car
to catch. All but Wistaria, who had come in her own private carriage,
which was late in arriving to take her home. The Philosopher had
remained with her, and he took her down to her carriage. I cannot
remember seeing anything more attractive than Wistaria's personality as
she said good night, her sparkling face all winsome cordiality, her
white scarf lying lightly upon the masses of her black hair, the crimson
rose nodding from the folds of her long, white cloak.
"Pretty fine looking pair, aren't they?" observed the Skeptic, with an
expansive grin, the moment the door had closed upon Wistaria and the
Philosopher. He threw himself into a chair and yawned mightily.
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