Explore "The White Glove" by Fred M. White on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Clifford was not long in following up his telegram to Mrs. Manton. He arrived after dinner, a necessary time, he explained, as his wardrobe was not quite what one naturally looks for in a fashionable house at that hour. Clifford looked exceedingly cheerful and on the best of terms with himself, despite the fact that he was dusty and dingy, and his linen bore eloquent testimony to the fact that he had worn it for some days.
"You are a colleague after my own heart," Mrs. Manton said, after she had shaken hands warmly. "Your wife has been here in great distress, but I felt certain that you would turn up all right again. I sent her back home to bring you a thorough change, because I felt sure that you had been following Rayne, and that you would have no time to waste in the making of a first hand toilette."