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Updated: June 22, 2025
Manny Sinai, also neckwear, out of New York." They posed, with the white sunlight in their eyes. "I hope we won't break the camera," said Arnheim. The remark was greeted with laughter. The little machine clicked, the new-comers departed, and then Miss Sternberger and Mr. Arnheim turned to each other again. "You ain't tired, are you Myra?"
"I try to make her rest up in summer," pursued Mrs. Blondheim, unpunctured. "You goils wear yourselves out nothin' but beaus, beaus all the time. There ain't a night in New York that my Bella ain't out with some young man. I always say to her, 'Bella, the theayters ought to give you a commission." Miss Sternberger rocked. "Where did you say you live in New York, Miss Sternberger?"
"Little New York is good enough for me. I've been over in Paris four months, now, and, believe me, it looked good yesterday to see the old girlie holdin' her lamp over the harbor." Miss Sternberger ran her hand over the smooth sheen of her dress; her gown was chaste, even stern, in its simplicity the expensive simplicity that is artful rather than artless.
"West One Hundred and Eleventh Street." "Oh yes are you related to the Morris Sternbergers in the boys'-pants business?" "I think on my father's side." "Honest, now! Carrie Sternberger married my brother-in-law; and they're doin' grand, too! He's built up a fine business there. Ain't this a small woild after all!" "It is that," agreed Miss Sternberger.
"How do you do?" said Miss Sternberger. "How do you do?" said Mr. Arnheim. "Miss Sternberger is like you, Mr. Arnheim she's always out after novelties; and I will say for her she don't miss out! She put out a line of uncut velvets last winter that was the best sellers we had." Mr. Arnheim bowed. Mrs. Schlimberg turned to Miss Sternberger.
She won't go out with a young man till she knows he comes from nice people." Miss Sternberger patted the back of her hand against her mouth and stifled a yawn. "One thing I must say for my Bella no matter where I take that goil, everybody says what a nice, retirin' goil she is!" "Bella does retire rather early," agreed Miss Sternberger in tones drippingly sweet.
He's a grand boy, the clerk says, and the swellest importer of ladies' wear in New York." Miss Sternberger leaned forward in her chair. "Is that Simon Arnheim?" "Sure. He's the one that introduced the hobble skoit. My Bella was one of the foist to wear one. There ain't a fad that he don't go over to Europe and get. He made a fortune off the hobble skoit alone." "Is that so?"
Miss Sternberger rose languidly to her feet. "Well," she said, "I guess I'll take a stroll and go up to bed." "Don't be so fidgety, Miss Sternberger; sit down by me and talk." Miss Sternberger smiled. "I'll see you later, Mrs. Blondheim; and don't forget that preparation I was tellin' you about Sloand's Mosquito Skit. Just rub the bottle stopper over your pillow and see if it don't work."
"This place is so slow it gets on my nerves it does!" Mrs. Blondheim, who carried toast away from the breakfast-table concealed beneath a napkin for her daughter who remained abed until noon, paused in her Irish crochet, spread a lace wheel upon her ample knee, and regarded it approvingly. "What you got to kick about, Miss Sternberger?
But she giggled in pleased self-consciousness and pushed her combs into place Miss Sternberger wore her hair oval about her face like Mona Lisa; her cheeks were pink-tinted, like the lining of a conch-shell. "My Bella always says a goil can't be too careful at these here summer resorts that's why she ain't out every night like some of these goils.
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