Colman's shoulder. She spoke in a low but fervent tone: Come to see me some day soon, dear. I want to talk with you.
At this point, a great deal of excitement rose near the door, while a sudden hush made the corners of the room conspicuous. Every face turned to stare at a newcomer.
Who is it? the Countess whisperingly demanded of her sister.
It's poor Mrs. Cameron. . . . I had to ask her, but I hope . . . Lou turned very red, held her hand to her mouth, and whispered very audibly in Ella's ear: She takes drugs!
Mrs. Cameron was truly a curious spectacle. She was dressed in a flowing tea-gown of rose challis with a long train. From top to bottom this creation was hung with enormous bows of pale green ribbon, with floating ends. Her hair was untidily arranged and she wore no hat. Her eyes were her most prominent feature: great, steel-grey eyes that pierced any object or person on whom she focused them. She approached the Countess, and during the preamble of introductions, shook hands with her.
I hate gloves, she explained, detest them, but I always wear a glove on my right hand when I go to receptions, because I hate moist hands more than I do gloves, and I hate dry ones more than moist ones.
No suitable reply occurring to her, the Countess
