With a rustle of her full lilac petticoats, Miss Froxfield turned back to Alderley. Some indeed carried themselves, dressed themselves even, rather as foreign visitors from the land of “Looking Backward” and “News from Nowhere” than as the indigenous Londoners they were. Five minutes ago, his butler had entered the green saloon, an austere apartment, with dark forest-green wallpaper flocked with a swirling design, and heavy mahogany furniture. \"Good night, girls. She sat on the edge of her bed and looked about her, at her room, at the row of black-covered books and the pig’s skull.
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