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 rotatory mastication of her jaws. Above her head was a square of white light reflected across from the window to the overmantel. He wished that the sheen of the tablecloth were snow, and that he could heap it over his head as that eye came round towards him.

"Now for it," he braced himself, clenching his hands upon his knife and fork, and squaring his elbows till one touched Miss Emily, who quivered.

"I'm afraid you couldn't hardly have heard the gong this morning, Mr. Rossiter. That new girl doesn't hardly know how to make it sound yet. She seems to me just to give it a sort of rattle."

Damn her impudence. She censored him for being late.

"Oh, I—I heard it, thank you!"

They had all stopped talking, and ate quite quietly to hear him speak. Only Jervis Bevel drained his coffee-cup with a gulp and gurgle.

"The fact is, I was—er—looking for my collar-stud."

"Ah, yes. I'm afraid you've sometimes been a little reckless about buying new ones