Her eye-lids, I think, hung even a little heavier in
age over their slow-moving inscrutable pupils. We filed in softly out
of the evening, and I made my bow.
"In this short interval, Mr. Withers," she remarked amiably, "you have
put off youth, put on the man. Dear me, how sad it is to see the young
days vanishing! Sit down. My nephew tells me you met by chance--or act
of Providence, shall we call it?--and in my beloved Strand! You, I
understand, are to be best man--yes, best man, or am I divulging
secrets?" She surveyed Arthur and Alice with overwhelming graciousness.
They sat apart on two low chairs and smiled in return.
"And Arthur--how do you think Arthur is looking?"
"I think he looks very much in need of a change," I said deliberately.
"A change! Indeed?" She all but shut her eyes at me and with an
exaggerated sentimentality shook her head. "My dear Mr. Withers! Are we
not _all_ in need of a change in this fleeting, fleeting world?" She
mused over the remark like a connoisseur. "And you," she continued,
turning abruptly to Alice, "I hope you pointed out to Mr.
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