Mrs. Bellmore was inclined to eat largely of late suppers prepared on an oil stove by her own fair and very fat hands.
"All the same you'd make a peach of a show-girl," added Mrs. Bellmore regretfully.
"I thought he must have been timid," said Mrs. Bellmore, absently.
Mrs. Bellmore looked at her, then glanced around the room, curiously.
As Terence was strolling upon the east piazza, Mrs. Bellmore came up to him, with a confidential sparkle in her eye.
Terence interested Mrs. Bellmore, because she was not sure which it was.
"I'm sleeping in the ghost-chamber," said Mrs. Bellmore, pensively.
If you told the tale out of kindness of heart, Mrs. Bellmore, I can't express how grateful I am to you.
On her way to the station, Mrs. Bellmore took from her bag a silk handkerchief, and looked at it with a little peculiar smile.
Mrs. Bellmore ran her prohibitive pencil lightly through the name.