"I say we, because Miss Rachel and I have struck up a match. She was new, unlike any other woman he had met in all his wide travel. Upon a table, where they had been hastily deposited, on the intelligence of Darrell's accident, lay a pair of pink kid gloves, bordered with lace, and an enormous fan; the latter, when opened, represented the metamorphosis and death of Actæon. ” John’s father, Thomas, strode into the front hall at that moment in his golf clothes. I hated the stuff. He had been the one to dress her in the finest silks and brocades, and here she was, displayed for the world to see in 248 drugstore makeup and the uniform of an old schoolteacher.
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