You are all so
young, so deliciously young. Look at Georgie in there: he's like a boy
still, and as for Mrs Weston, she's twenty-five: not a day older."
"Yes, wonderful woman," said he. "Always agreeable and lively.
Handsome, too: I consider Mrs Weston a very handsome woman. Hasn't
altered an atom since I knew her."
"That's the wonderful thing about you all!" said she. "You are all just
as brisk and young as you were ten years ago. It's ridiculous. As for
you, I'm not sure that you're not the most ridiculous of the lot. I
feel as if I had been having dinner with three delightful cousins a
little younger--not much, but just a little--than myself. Gracious! How
you all made me romp the other night here. What a pace you go, Colonel!
What's your walking like if you call this a stroll?"
Colonel Boucher moderated his pace. He thought Olga had been walking so
quickly.
"I'm very sorry," he said. "Certainly Riseholme is a healthy bracing
place. Perhaps we do keep our youth pretty well. God bless me, but the
days go by without one's noticing them. To think that I came here with
Atkinson close on ten years ago."
This did very well for Olga: she swiftly switched off onto it.
"It's quite horrid for you losing your servant," she said. "Servants do
become friends, don't they, especially to anyone living alone. Georgie
and Foljambe, now! But I shouldn't be a bit surprised if Foljambe had a
mistress before very long.
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