No One Could Have Called Mr. Standen

Spread The Glad Tidings That It Will Not Disappoint Miss Heyer's Many Admirers. Judging From The Letters I've Received From Obviously Feeble-minded Persons Who Do So Wish I Would Write Another These Old Shades, It Ought To Sell Like Hot Cakes. I Think Myself I Ought To Be Shot For Writing Such Nonsense, But It's Questionably Good Escapist Literature And I Think I Should Rather Like It If I Were Sitting In An Air-raid Shelter, Or Recovering From Flu. Its Period Detail Is Good; My Husband Says It's Witty---and Without Going To These Lengths, I Will Say That It Is Very Good Fun.

There Is A Worse Tyranny Than That Of Ill-treatment. It Is The Tyranny Of Tears, Vapours, Appeals To Feelings Of Affection And Of Gratitude!

Perhaps,” Murmured His Lordship, “i Yielded To A Compassionate Impulse.” “a What?” Gasped His Best Friend. “oh, Did You Think I Never Did So?” Said His Lordship, The Satirical Glint In His Eyes Extremely Pronounced. “you Wrong Me! I Do, Sometimes—not Frequently, Of Course, But Every Now And Then!

Miss Grantham's Sense Of Humour Got The Better Of Her At This Point, And, Tottering Towards A Chair, She Sank Into It, Exclaiming In Tragic Accents:'oh Heavens! I Am Betrayed!' His Lordship Blenched; Both He And Miss Laxton Regarded Her With Guilty Dismay. Miss Grantham Buried Her Face In Her Handkerchief, And Uttered One Shattering Word: 'wretch!

Nevertheless, She Did Not Weep, Because, For One Thing, It Would Have Made Her Eyes Red, And Another, It Would Be Of Very Little Use.