outwardly she was very much the tiny lady of Oberon's court, very much
the coquette quintessentialised.
It is pitiable that our proud Margaret should come to such a pass. Ah,
the men that you have flouted and scorned and bedeviled and mocked at,
Margaret--could they see you now, I think the basest of them could
not but pity and worship you. This man is bound in honour to another
woman; yet a little, and his lips will open--very dry, parched lips
they are now--and he will tell you, and your pride will drive you mad,
and your heart come near to breaking.
"Don't you understand--oh, you silly Billy!" She was peeping at him