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Updated: May 12, 2025
"I don't know," stammered Mrs. Symes who was still truthful rather than tactful, "but I'll ask Phidias." "You find out and lemme know," said Mrs. Tutts menacingly. "They can't nobody in this town hand me nothin'!" Since Mrs. Tutts's sensitiveness appeared always to show itself in a desire to do the offender bodily harm, Andy P. Symes took care not to commit himself.
Kincaid became conscious that he was being eyed in curiosity and impatience by the eager folk behind. He heard Mrs. Tutts's rasping whisper as he moved along "She ain't shed a tear not even gone into black. I'll bet she don't aim to view the corp' at all!" Kincaid followed Mrs. Tutts's disapproving gaze. That was the suspect!
Abe Tutts's paper upon Wagnerian music at the Culture Club were slights that rankled. She was suspiciously close at hand when the ladies appeared in the office of the Terriberry House with their culinary successes; also she was wearing the red foulard which never went out of the closet except to funerals and important functions.
That there was some uncertainty as to the exact meaning of the request to wear "full dress" may be gathered from Mrs. Abe Tutts's observation, while drying a few dank hairs at Mrs. Jackson's front gate, that it was lucky she had not ripped up her accordion-pleated skirt which was as full as anybody could wear and hope to get around in! "'Tain't that," Mrs. Jackson snorted in her face.
"Join your hands and circle to the left!" Around they went in a giddy whirl and starched petticoats stood out like hoopskirts. "First lady swing with the right hand round with the right hand gent!" The train of Mrs. Abe Tutts's diaphanous "tea-gown" laid out on the breeze, thereby revealing the fact that she was wearing Congress gaiters, comfortable but not "dressy."
Abe Tutts's existence was due to Essie Tisdale's graphic account of the outburst of temper in which that erratic lady, while rehearsing the rôle of a duchess in an amateur production, kicked, not figuratively but literally, the duke a rôle essayed by the talented plasterer down the stairs of Odd Fellow's Hall over the General Merchandise Store.
As the evening advanced and the exercise of the dance loosened Mrs. Tutts's simple coiffure, the aigrette slipped forward until that lady resembled nothing so much as a sportive unicorn. Mrs. Terriberry was unique and also warm in a long pink boa of curled chicken feathers which she kept wound closely about her neck. The red and feverish appearance of Mrs.
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