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Updated: May 5, 2025
It would give her something to do, keep her mind off herself. Nothing but excitement would pull her out of this semi-hysterical doldrum. She hid the wallet in the pocket of her underskirt. Already her blood was beginning to dance. She ran into her bedroom for two veils, a gray automobile puggree and one of those heavy black affairs with butterflies scattered over it, quite as effectual as a mask.
A milk-white hand held up a pale-pink skirt, disclosing the lacy flounce of a fine underskirt, pale-pink stockings and mincing little slippers; a pink parasol cast the most delicate of tints upon a pretty face from which big blue eyes looked out a little timorously upon the tall horse foreman. He knew that this was Marcia Langworthy.
I think we must have been there, waiting and coaxing, nearly half an hour, before she began to hitch along; for walk she wouldn't, and she didn't. She had on a black Ernani dress, and a nice silk underskirt; and as she lifted herself along with her hands, hoist after hoist sidewise, of course the thin stuff dragged on the rocks and began to go to pieces.
She felt eagerly in the pocket of her underskirt, and produced several pieces of dirty, crumpled paper. As she unfolded one after another, she asked: "A big chest, wasn't it?" "Yes, very big." "And quite new?" "Quite new." "And corded?" "Yes, I can see it now." "So can I, good gracious! It was the day when I sold the history of Leroi de Valines, the 1st of February."
He marked the graceful sweep of her dark, close-fitting dress, the white fringe of dainty underskirt, the small foot, neatly booted, peeping from beneath, and the glimpse of round, white throat, rendered even fairer by the creamy lace encircling it.
"What a man!" murmured Gaston in deep admiration. "Listen," resumed the tailor, his eye flashing with the fire of genius. "First, a walking costume with a polonaise and a cape a la pensionnaire; bodice, sleeves, and underskirt of a brilliant chestnut "
Lucile's answer was to tear a six-inch strip from the bottom of her underskirt. The wound was then tightly and skillfully bandaged. "Next thing's something to eat," said Lucile, rising. "You stay here and I'll see what I can find to cook something in." She soon returned with a huge brass teakettle of the Russian type. Into this she put snow, and hung it over the seal-oil lamp.
She apparently had not had time to change her underskirt, for there was the dust of the stage on its delicate lace edging, as she threw herself into an armchair and crossed her pretty slippered feet before her.
Two inches below her black dress dropped the lowest flounce of a heliotrope silk underskirt. "Beg your pardon," said Cork, looking at her admiringly. "I didn't mean anything. Sure, it's no harm to smoke, Maudy." "Rooney's," said the girl, softened at once by his amends, "is the only place I know where a lady can smoke. Maybe it ain't a nice habit, but aunty lets us at home.
Listen, old thing; do put on some water. I'm croaking for a cup of tea. Without any comment, Elise went into the adjoining room, used as a kitchen, while the voluptuary dabbed clouds of powder over her neck and shoulders. With a tired listlessness, Elise returned and sank into a chair, from the back of which an underskirt was hanging disconsolately. 'You didn't do the breakfast-dishes, Marian.
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