`` I will go -- and I wo n't do another bit of darning tonight . I hate it -- I hate it -- I hate it ! Oh , how much good it does me to say it ! '' When Margaret came flying up the stairs Aunt Beatrice was ready save for hair and dress . Margaret cast the gown on the bed , revealing all its beauty of jetted lace and soft yellow silk with a dextrous sweep of her arm . Aunt Beatrice gave a little cry of admiration . `` Is n't it lovely ? '' demanded Margaret . `` And I 've brought you my opera cape and my fascinator and my black satin slippers with the cunningest gold buckles , and some sweet pale yellow roses that Uncle Ned gave me yesterday . Oh , Aunt Beatrice ! What magnificent arms and shoulders you have ! They 're like marble . Mine are so scrawny I 'm just ashamed to have people know they belong to me . '' Margaret 's nimble fingers were keeping time with her tongue . Aunt Beatrice 's hair went up as if by magic into soft puffs and waves and twists , and a golden rose was dropped among the bronze masses . Then the lovely dress was put on and pinned and looped and pulled until it fell into its simple , classical lines around the tall , curving figure . Margaret stepped back and clapped her hands admiringly . `` Oh , Auntie , you 're beautiful ! Now I 'll pop down for the cloak and fascinator . I left them hanging by the fire . ''
When Margaret had gone Aunt Beatrice caught up the lamp and tiptoed shamefacedly across the hall XXXXX the icy-cold spare room .
around by for into like of on to until with