George thought; and as for the broken statues and the inscriptions
and the contents of the stone chests, nobody had paid any attention
to them for so long that they could hardly have missed his regard.
Nor Amory's. For Amory was in the midst of a reminiscent reference
to the Chiswicks, in the Adirondacks, and to Antionette Frothingham
in a launch.
At last they all were aware that the chess-board was being closed
and Mrs. Hastings had risen.
"I suppose," she was saying, "that they have an idea here, the poor
deluded creatures, that it is very late. But I tell Olivia that we
are so much farther east it _can't_ be very late in New York at this
minute, and I intend to go to bed by my watch as I always do, and
that is New York time. If I were in New York I wouldn't be sleepy
now, and I'm no different here, am I? I don't think people are half
independent enough."
Mrs. Hastings stepped round a stone god, almost faceless, that stood
in a little circular depression in the floor.
"Olivia, where," she inquired, patting the bobbing, ticking jet on
her gown, "where do you think that frightful, mad, old man is?"
"I heard him cross the corridor a little while ago," Olivia
answered.
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