Woman's love of silk is not set by fashion; it is bred in the bone; and somewhere, somehow, a woman will have her bit of silk. ‘Now let’s have it. “I made two fruit pies and now I have no one to eat them. ” “I am highly flattered,” she remarked, with subtle irony. She kept thinking she was thinking about Mr. " "You paint yourself worse than you are, dear Mrs. ” “Tell me about yourself,” said Ann Veronica. ” “She is one of them,” Ennison said.
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