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Updated: June 28, 2025
What could I do?" cried Alexina gayly. "But alas! you admit you have no imagination." "Don't need any. You'd be good for several things. You could go into the insurance business like Mrs. Lake, or into real estate like Mrs. Cole people like to have a pretty and stylish young lady showin' 'em round flats. Or you could buy an orchard like the Ruylers that'd require capital.
They were a hard, tight-fisted lot, the Ruylers, and Price in one secluded but cherished wing of his mind was unlike them only because his mother was the daughter of Masefield Price and would have been an artist herself if her scandalized husband would have consented.
Alexina and several of her friends were motoring back to the city through the Santa Clara Valley, after luncheon with the Price Ruylers at their home on the mountain above Los Gatos.
Olive lived there. Janet and Sibyl had more money than they could spend. The Ruylers were ranching, and Helene was in Adler's Sanatorium with a new baby. Alice had gone to Santa Barbara before she left and had not returned. It was insulting even to pass them in review, but the mind works in erratic curves under shock.
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