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Updated: June 21, 2025
Next to the old woman, out of the door of the Civil Court, his broad, starched shirt front glistening from under his low-cut waistcoat, with a self-satisfied look on his face, came the celebrated advocate who had managed to arrange matters so that the old woman lost all she had, and the person versed in the law received more than 100,000 roubles.
As she stood at the door, candle in hand, her low-cut gown exposing her beautiful throat with its strong full curves, its gleaming whiteness and the pulsing hollow at the base, her marvellous hair of sunlit gold hanging in two thick braids to below her waist, her sweet oval face of snowy whiteness, underlaid with the faint pink of roses, her great luminous eyes with their arched and pencilled brows, and the tears pendant from the long black lashes, I could not help knowing that there was not in all Whitehall beauty to compare with hers.
Ruth, who was seated pensive by her window, rose on Diana's impetuous entrance, and in the deepening twilight she looked almost ghostly in her gown of shimmering white satin, sewn with pearls about the neck of the low-cut bodice. "Diana!" she cried. "You startled me." "Not so much as I am yet to do," answered Diana, breathing excitement.
"I'm better; I mustn't be late at my next shop," she murmured apologetically as the number and the music were changed back. "Ah, she's come she was late," came the murmurs of the audience as it stirred in excited expectation. She flung on roguish, feverish, diabolical, seductive in low-cut bodice pranked with flowers.
It was one hundred and fifty dollars, a HUNDRED AND FIFTY DOLLARS, and it came from New York. I don't believe that white muslin thing of Gussie Pennock's cost fifty! You know Gussie?" "I've seen her." 'Yes, of course you have with Fred. He used to go with her a lot. He goes with Pearl Gaylord more now. There, you can see them this minute, dancing together the one in the low-cut, blue dress.
Like most of the principal arteries of the French capital, the boulevard was generously lined with trees, now in full bloom, and the sidewalks fairly seethed with a picturesque throng in which mingled promiscuously frivolous students, dapper shop clerks, sober citizens, and frisky, flirtatious little ouvrières, these last being all hatless, as is characteristic of the workgirl class, but singularly attractive in their neat black dresses and dainty low-cut shoes.
"Try to stand," he urged, as he leaned down and took her arm. "Let me lift you. There! How did it happen?" "My ankle turned," she replied, rising with effort and standing unsteadily, despite his support. "Does it pain you?" he queried with polite solicitude, looking down at the dainty low-cut gray shoe. "Bear your weight on it." She essayed the experiment.
Cloud was a city, fifteen or sixteen thousand. "How could he get away with a dress-suit? How could he keep from feeling foolish in a low-cut vest, and what the deuce would he do with the tails? Did you part 'em or roll 'em up, when you sat down? And wouldn't everybody be able to tell from his foolish look that he didn't belong in one?"
The sun shone in at the window, and some one laughed a little laugh somewhere down the corridor, and Deming, who is Irish, plunged into a droll description of a brand-new office boy who had arrived that day. "S'elp me, Black, the kid wears spectacles and a Norfolk suit, and low-cut shoes with bows on 'em. On the square he does. Looks like one of those Boston infants you see in the comic papers.
What matters it that her skin was not without the rich quality of cream too thick to pour, when her arms fairly dimpled and billowed of this creaminess, and above her rather small ankles her made-to-order red-satin shoes bulged over of it, the low-cut bosom of her red and sequin dress was a terrific expanse of it, her hands small cushions of it, her throat quivery, and her walk a waddle with it.
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