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Updated: June 27, 2025
When Angie Hatton came home from the East the town used to stroll past on Mondays to view the washing on the Hatton line. Angie's underwear, flirting so audaciously with the sunshine and zephyrs, was of voile and silk and crêpe de Chine and satin materials that we had always thought of heretofore as intended exclusively for party dresses and wedding gowns.
One of them was enough to be kicking over the traces; it wouldn't do for Angie to start. However, that was her own affair. . . . He shrugged, and, picking up his book, switched off the light. Life was beginning to round out for Willa, if a multiplicity of demands upon her time and interest could satisfy her eager impulses.
Same as North Fourth Street and South Fourth Street up in the city. It runs both ways, Angie, you poor simp." "I shall write to him again this evening," said Angie stiffly. "And I'll thank you, Charlie Webster, to remember that I am a lady and not a " "I apologize, Angie," cried Charlie. "You'd better!" They walked along in silence for a few rods. Then Charlie spoke.
She tried to straighten, to smile with her old bravado. What was that story she had planned to tell? "Who is it, Dad? Who ?" Angie Hatton came into the hallway. She stared at Tessie. Then: "Why, my dear!" she said. "My dear! Come in here." Angie Hatton! Tessie began to cry weakly, her face buried in Angie Hatton's expensive shoulder.
"Well, Angie, it looks as if you'd found your job right here at home, doesn't it? This young lady's just one of hundreds, I suppose. Hundreds. You can have the whole house for them, if you want it, Angie, and the grounds, and all the money you need. I guess we've kind of overlooked the girls. H'm, Angie. What d'you say?" But Tessie was not listening. She had scarcely heard.
"'Had I beheld that awful scene, I should have turned me pale, My eyes were mercifully hence, When Judah killed the whale. "It was I, so to speak, that was killed," said Captain Judah, with his peculiar smile; "the whale escaped. But for the sake of symphony, Angie has used that poetic license, familiar, as you know, to wide-idead thinkers. Or let me read you this "
The autumn that Angie Hatton came home from Europe wearing the first hobble skirt that Chippewa had ever seen Tessie gave an imitation of that advanced young woman's progress down Grand Avenue in this restricted garment. The thing was cruel in its fidelity, though containing just enough exaggeration to make it artistic.
"We'll be late," Angie observed as she and Willa waited in the drawing-room for the rest of the family. It was the first remark she had voluntarily addressed to her cousin since she had come upon the tête-
And stop dinning that society stuff into Adele's ears. She's got brains, that child. Why, just yesterday, in the workroom, she got hold of some satin and a shape and turned out a little turban that Angie Hatton " "Do you mean to tell me that Angie Hatton saw my Adele working in your shop! Now, look here, Sophy. You're earning your living, and it's to your credit. You're my sister.
"Don't believe it. Someone's been stringing you. She doesn't know a soul in town er, that is, no one but the few she has run into informally here." "But I tell you I saw her myself! She was just coming out as I motored past." "I say, what were you doing out there yourself? I thought you went to a matinée." Angie grimaced. "I went out to the Bumble Bee Inn for tea. You needn't be a prig about it!
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