cupid-held

Updated: May 16, 2025

The dressing table bore beautiful appointments of ivory, as solid as Warble's own dome and from the Cupid-held canopy over the bed to the embroidered satin foot-cushions, it was top hole. The scent was of French powders, perfumes and essences and sachets, such as Warble had not smelled since before the war. "Can you beat it," she groaned. "How can I live with doodads like this?"

Carolyn Wells - Ptomaine Street