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Asquith, Margot, 1864-1945

"Margot Asquith, an Autobiography - Two Volumes in One"

When we arrived at the theatre neither the lady, her
girls, nor the Graf were there. I found an immense bouquet on my
seat, of yellow roses with thick clusters of violets round the
stalk, the whole thing tied up with wide Parma violet ribbons. It
was a wonderful bouquet. I buried my face in the roses, wondering
why the Graf was so late, fervently hoping that the lady and her
daughters would not turn up: no Englishman would have thought of
giving one flowers in this way, said I to myself. The curtain! How
very tiresome! The doors would all be shut now, as late-comers
were not allowed to disturb the Gotterdammerung. The next day I
was to travel home, which depressed me; my life would be different
in London and all my lessons were over for ever! What could have
happened to the Graf, the lady and her daughters? Before the
curtain rose for the last act, he arrived and, flinging off his
cloak, said breathlessly to me:
"You can't imagine how furious I am! To-night of all nights we had
a regimental dinner! I asked my colonel to let me slip off early,
or I should not be here now; I had to say good-bye to you. Is it
true then? Are you really off to-morrow?"
MARGOT (pressing the bouquet to her face, leaning faintly towards
him and looking into his eyes): "Alas, yes! I will send you
something from England so that you mayn't quite forget me. I won't
lean back and cover my head with a handkerchief to-night, but if I
hide my face in these divine roses now and then, you will forgive
me and understand.


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