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Updated: June 23, 2025
Lester Goldmark placed his white-gloved hand upon the white-gloved arm of Mrs. Coblenz. "Say, Mother Coblenz, ain't it about time this little girl of mine was resting her pink-satin double A's? She's been on duty up here from four to seven. No wonder Uncle Mark bucked." Mrs.
Samstag made six of the nightgowns that winter three for herself and three for her daughter. Peach-blowy pink ones with lace yokes that were scarcely more to the skin than the print of a wave edge running up sand, and then little frills of pink-satin ribbon, caught up here and there with the most delightful and unconvincing little blue-satin rosebuds.
Over her rough peasant's clothes, some article of cast-off apparel cuts a strange and lamentable figure: a muslin morning-wrap, once white and covered with filmy lace; long, faded ribbons, which fasten a showy Watteau pleat to the back, with ravelled ends spreading over the thick red-cotton skirt; old pink-satin slippers, with pointed heels that sink into the mud.
One by one the maids went. Then Gwendolyn suddenly recalled why she was waiting alone while Miss Royle and Jane made themselves extra neat in their respective rooms; why she herself was dressed with such unusual care in a pink muslin, white silk stockings, and black patent-leather pumps, the whole crowned by a pink-satin hair-bow.
Lester Goldmark placed his white-gloved hand upon the white-gloved arm of Mrs. Coblenz. "Say, mother Coblenz, ain't it about time this little girl of mine was resting her pink-satin double A's? She's been on duty up here from four to seven. No wonder uncle Mark bucked." Mrs.
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