"Hugh Morgan?"
"Is that his name? There are so many Morgans."
"Common Welsh name."
"Met another boy, I expect."
"Boys are all alike."
"Not a pin to choose among 'em."
"Wish I was behind him with a stick for all that."
"Another glass of wine, Mr. Ashton?" ...
Then there enters with a little commotion, and trips half running to the empty chair between John Willie Garden and Val Clayton, Mrs. Maynard. She wears a big black hat swathed in black tulle, and her dress is of black lace, with close sleeves that reach to the middle knuckles of her taper fingers. She shakes out the mitre of her napkin and breaks forth to Val as she settles in her chair.
"My horrid hair!" she pouts; "it always takes me three-quarters of an hour! Really, I shall have to stop bathing, but I do love it so. It seems a kind of fate; I always have to give up the things I love!"