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Updated: May 19, 2025
Alva Jackson's eyelids was easily accounted for by the numberless French knots on her new peach-blow silk, but she felt more than repaid for so small a matter as strained eyes by the look of astonishment and envy which she surprised from Mrs. Abe Tutts, who had exhausted her ingenuity in trying to discover what she meant to wear. Mrs.
"Not now; I'm a biscuit-shooter; I work and 'Society must draw the line somewhere." "Who said that?" Amazement was in Van Lennop's tone. "Mr. Symes said it to Mrs. Symes, Mrs. Symes said it to Mrs. Jackson, Mrs. Jackson said it to Mrs. Tutts, Mrs. Tutts said it to me." "Of whom?" "Of me." "But what society?" Van Lennop's face still wore a puzzled look. "Crowheart society."
Tutts, writin' them pieces for the Culture Club, I suppose you have to git exercise." "I've brought Essie some lobster salad from a receipt that mamma sent me," said Mrs. Parrott when she could get an opening, "and while it's canned lobster, it's really delicious!" "The whites of sixteen aigs I put in this Lady Baltimore cake, and it's light as a feather." Mrs.
"Ner me," declared Mrs. Jackson, "she's a perfeckly good girl so far as I know." "Where do you suppose Mis' Symes got them cards printed?" inquired Mrs. Tutts. "I gotta git Tutts to git to work and git me some." "Over to the Courier office I should think," Mrs. Jackson added. "It's lucky I got some in the house since they've started in usin' em." There was a moment's silence in which Mrs.
Tutts across the street. "I'll bet they are laffin' at me!" "We had charming weather while we were gone," continued Mrs. Symes easily. The word was new to her vocabulary and its elegance did not escape Mrs. Jackson. "That's good." "The change was so beneficial to me. One so soon exhausts a small town, don't you think so, Mrs. Jackson?" Mrs.
"This is perfeckly ridic'lous; do you at all realize what you're doin'?" "I won't," Mrs. Tutts spoke with full knowledge of the deadly insult; "I won't until I git a few handfuls of your red hair!" Mrs. Jackson stopped in her tracks and fear fell from her. Her roving eye searched the room for a weapon and her glance fell upon the potted geranium. Mrs.
"Ah mon Dieu comrade," sobbed Louis, falling in my arms from sheer exhaustion, while the tears trickled down in a white furrow over his blood-splashed cheeks, "mon Dieu comrade, but you pay me back generous!" "Tutts, man, this is no time for settling old scores and playing the grand! Run for your life. Run to the woods and swim the river!"
Tutts, whose fierceness she was well aware was more than surface deep, and she read in that person's alert pose a disconcerting readiness for action. It was a critical moment, one which required tact, for a single injudicious word would precipitate a fray of which Mrs. Jackson could not be altogether sure of the result.
"Set down," urged Mrs. Jackson making a dash at a blue plush rocking-chair which she rolled into the centre of the room with great energy. When the chair tipped and sent Mrs. Symes's feet into the air Mrs. Jackson's burst of laughter was heard distinctly by Mrs. Tutts across the street. "Trash!" exclaimed that person in unfathomable contempt. Mrs.
He moved among them with a savoir-faire which was new to Crowheart, talking easily and with flattering deference to this neglected lady and that, agreeable to a point which left them animated and coquettish. He danced with Mrs. Terriberry, he escorted Mrs. Tutts to the punch bowl, he threw Mrs.
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