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"I am not what-you-call-a-blanchisseuse I have never held a flat-iron " she was smiling because she was thinking of Grandy's inflexible order "never let her hand be spread on any heavy object." She lived through My Lady Fretfulness's tirade at this appalling ignorance. She again patiently explained that she was sorry The Exchange had let Madame misunderstand.
Grandy's fat sofa under the dormer windows, the stately hall table flat against the side wall, Maman's chaise-longue, the slender chaise-longue with its flowered chintz cushions, beside the fire When Felicia saw that she reached out her arms and sighed contentedly, rapturously "Oh! it's home it's really home " Who shall say which of them won the greater triumph in those mad April days?
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