“Dyed!” “And your figure?” “One’s corsetière arranges that. The softly glittering summer stars! She saw them shining over mountains of snow, over valleys of haze and warm darkness. This way, my dear—and— you’ll excuse my mentioning it, but a quiet blouse and a little chiffon, you know, will be quite sufficient. John, he was between me and the door. He carried her in his arms up the steps, like a bride on her honeymoon. Here was the place behind the shed where she had used to hide from Roddy’s persecutions, and here the border of herbaceous perennials under whose stems was fairyland.
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