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Updated: May 12, 2025
After a glance over her shoulder and a flashing smile she returned to her work, pushing her hair still further off her forehead with one hand, and sweeping the greasy cloth over her face with the other. "Well," said Crowder, standing beside her and looking at her reflection, "how's the baby-grand Patti tonight?" "Fine!"
The little beaded handbag. Oh God, help me. That burning ache to rest and to uncurl of nervousness. All the thousand, thousand little pores of her body, screaming each one, to be placated. They hurt the entire surface of her. That great storm at sea in her head; the crackle of lightning down that arm Let me see Circassian walnut baby-grand the pores demanding, crying shrieking
The piano, a baby-grand, stood open, with dust on its dingy keys and more dust on its shining case. The centre-table held a handsome reading-lamp and some books, but was littered with piles of old newspapers and magazines without covers.
A baby-grand piano. Later to be Alma's engagement gift from "mamma and papa." No, "mamma and Louis." Better so. How her neck and her shoulder blade and now her elbow were flaming with the pain. She cried a little, quite silently, and tried a poor, futile scheme for easing her head in the crotch of her elbow. Now then: She must knit Louis some neckties. The silk-sweater stitch would do.
It's a baby-grand piano, and a beauty, and it came all the way from Winnipeg. But either the shipping or the knocking about or the extreme cold has put it terribly out of tune, and it can't be used until the piano-tuner travels a couple of hundred miles out here to put it in shape. And it's far too big for the shack, even when pushed right up into the corner.
Circassian walnut or mahogany dining room? Alma should decide. A baby-grand piano. Later to be Alma's engagement gift from, "Mama and Papa." No, "Mama and Louis." Better so. How her neck and her shoulder-blade, and now her elbow, were flaming with the pain!
There was also a baby-grand piano, covered with music, and a huge grey parrot in a gilded and palatial cage. It was Joyselle's translation of an English gentleman's room, even to the engravings and etchings on the wall. One thing, however, the girl had never before seen.
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