The colored maid who had shown him in was retained to
button her mistress' long gloves. It proved to be a somewhat slow
process. Over the mantel hung a gilt-framed mirror, as wide as the
mantel itself. To this mirror, the gloves buttoned, Miss Weyland passed,
and reviewed her appearance with slow attention, giving a pat here,
making a minor readjustment there. But this survey did not suffice for
details, it seemed; a more minute examination was needed; over the floor
she trailed with leisurely grace, and rang the bell.
"Oh, Mary--my vanity-box, please. On the dressing-table."
Seating herself under the lamp, she produced from the contrivance the
tiniest little mirror ever seen. As she raised it to let it perform its
dainty function, her glance fell on Queed, sitting darkly in his
rocking-chair. A look of mild surprise came into her eye: not that it
was of any consequence, but plainly she had forgotten that he was there.
"Oh ... You don't mind waiting a few minutes?"
"I do m--"
"You promised half an hour I think? Never fear that I shall take
longer--"
"I did not promise half an hour for such--"
"It was left to me to decide in what way the time should be employed, I
believe.
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