They were bickering, she could tell by the way the mother threw her fat arms into the air and paced restlessly about the tiny clapboard house. They had been married for well over one hundred years. Her father became much less distant towards his only daughter in the days that followed. He was staring at her, openly gaping. The close-fitting round gown, if a little oldfashioned with its very narrow waist and wide skirts, was becoming on a full figure, and the low décolletage, unencumbered by any form of covering, exposed a good deal of bosom. I know why. Here one might live the life of golden days. She had adored the stupid thing, and kept it in her pocket for about ten years. " "There isn't an angel in heaven, Ruth, purer or sweeter than you are.
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