Babylon. Volume 3. Allen Grant
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‘Excuse me, Minna dear,’ Colin said, taking her hand and leading her forward quietly.
‘My cousin, Miss Wroe: Miss Howard-Bussell, Colonel Howard-Russell, Mr. Audouin, Mr. Winthrop.’
Minna bowed to them all stiffly with cheeks burning, and then fell back again at once angrily into her former position.
‘And have you come to Rome lately, Miss Wroe?’ Gwen asked of her with genuine kindness. ‘Are you here on a visit to your cousin, whose work we all admire so greatly?’
‘I came a week ago,’ Minna answered defiantly, blurting out the whole truth (lest she should seem to be keeping back anything) and pitting her whole social nonentity, as it were, against the grand lady’s assured position.
‘I came a week ago; and I’m a governess to a little Russian girl here; and I’m going to stop all the winter.’
‘That’ll be very nice for all of us,’ Gwen put in softly, with a look that might almost have disarmed Minna’s hasty suspicions. ‘And how exceedingly pleasant for you to have your cousin here, too! I suppose it was partly on that account, now, that you decided upon coming here?’
‘It was,’ Minna answered shortly, without vouchsafing any further explanation.
‘And where are you going now, Mr. Churchill?’ Gwen asked, seeing that Minna was clearly not in a humour for conversation. ‘Are you showing your cousin the sights of Rome, I wonder?’
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