Explore "Memoirs of a Midget" by Walter de la Mare on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
When next Fanny and I met, it was in the cool grey-green summery drawing-room at Monk's House, and Mrs. Monnerie and Susan shared tea with us. One covert glance at Mrs. Monnerie's face had reassured me. That strange mask was as vigilant and secretive, but as serene, as when it had first smiled on me in the mauves and gildings of Brunswick House. She had set her world right again and was at peace with mankind. As complacently as ever she stretched me out her finger. She had not even taken the trouble to forgive me for my little "scene"; had let it perish of its own insignificance. Oh, I thought, if I could be as life-size as that! I did not learn till many days afterwards, however, that she had had news of me from France. Good news, which Sir W., trusting in my patience and common-sense, had kept back from me until he could deliver it in person and we could enjoy it together.
Only one topic of conversation was ours that afternoon -- that "amazing Prodigy of Nature," the Spanish Princess; Mrs. Monnerie's one regret that she herself had not discovered a star of such ineffably minute magnitude. Yet her teasing and sarcasm were so nimble and good-humoured; she insinuated so pleasantly her little drolleries and innuendoes; that even if Miss M. had had true cause for envy and malice, she could have taken no offence. Far from it.