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           Iwantthethingoutofthehouseimmediately!And,asyoulive,don’tsaytheycomefromme!"Sheflunghervelvetoperacloakoverthemaid’sshouldersandturnedbackintothedrawing-room,shuttingthedoorsharply.Herbosomwasrisinghighunderitslace,andforamomentArcherthoughtshewasabouttocry;butsheburstintoalaughinstead,andlookingfromtheMarchionesstoArcher,askedabruptly:"Andyoutwo—haveyoumadefriends!""It’sforMr.Archertosay,darling;hehaswaitedpatientlywhileyouweredressing.""Yes—Igaveyoutimeenough:myhairwouldn’tgo,"MadameOlenskasaid,raisingherhandtotheheaped-upcurlsofherchignon."Butthatremindsme:IseeDr.Carverisgone,andyou’llbelateattheBlenkers’.Mr.Archer,willyouputmyauntinthecarriage?"ShefollowedtheMarchionessintothehall,sawherfittedintoamiscellaneousheapofovershoes,shawlsandtippets,andcalledfromthedoorstep:"Mind,thecarriageistobebackformeatten!"Thenshereturnedtothedrawing-room,whereArcher,onre-enteringit,foundherstandingbythemantelpiece,examiningherselfinthemirror.Itwasnotusual,inNewYorksociety,foraladytoaddressherparlour-maidas"mydearone,"andsendheroutonanerrandwrappedinherownopera-cloak;andArcher,throughallhisdeeperfeelings,tastedthepleasurableexcitementofbeinginaworldwhereactionfollowedonemotionwithsuchOlympianspeed.