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 embossed in the heavy, white paper, and also adorned the flap of the envelope. From the recess where the creamy piles lay spread, arose a faint perfume of violets.

With strong, scratching gestures, Mrs. Ford penned her little note:

She signed with a decided upward tilt, and added the date and address—reread the epistle first to herself, then to Philippa, and rang for the maid. "And now, my dear," she added, rising and standing before the dressing-table, "I must dress to see him." 295