"Try one of these chocolates in silver paper, Mrs. Huntington."
"Thee's a bad lady, to tempt me!"
"I just wish chocolates liked me as well as I like them!"
"Have a chocolate, Christabel dear? I must get rid of these before my son comes tomorrow, or he'll think I didn't appreciate them."
"Is thy son coming tomorrow?"
"Yes. Isn't it wonderful that he's able to get down again so soon. Mm! Mershy! B'carefu' thish kin'—mmp! Cologne or something inside these big round ones!" She buried her chin in her breast, as a pigeon buries its bill. "Did I spill? I guess not. Yes, Curtis iscoming. I was so surprised when he wrote that he'd be down this week, too."
Christabel, sharing a chair beside the bridge table with Aunt Lydia's book and shawl and work-bag, saw through a shining mist the roomful of old ladies, pale or purple, playing bridge
