"What a hag I look! I can't go down in this.

It looks like a bedgown.

Find me something, Allegro! That red silk will do.

I believe everything else is at Weir.
You will have to send my things back, for I am going to stay here now.
I've had enough of Max Wyndham's tyranny.

I must have my own way or I shall rave." With impulsive hands she tore off her tumbled muslin dress, and arrayed herself in the flaming evening robe which Olga had once condemned.