What of it?” There was a shout of laughter. “You ARE a female thing at bottom,” he admitted. The bridesmaids and pages got rather jumbled in the aisle, and she had an effect of Alice’s white back and sloping shoulders and veiled head receding toward the altar. He noted that she was fully dressed, that her hair was carefully done, that there was a knotted ribbon around her throat. Look out, it’s coming. She seemed just as stiff and shy as a girl ought to be, Lady Palsworthy thought, neither garrulous nor unready, and free from nearly all the heavy aggressiveness, the overgrown, overblown quality, the egotism and want of consideration of the typical modern girl.
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