She went to the basement and shed her sodden coat and scarf, tossing them into her favorite modern appliance, the electric dryer. Gerald’s judgement was borne out a moment later. “I suppose, Vee, you don’t see much of those Widgetts now?” “I go in and talk to Constance sometimes. ” “I suppose,” said Constance, stencilling away at bright pink petals, “it’s our lot. I don’t care what divides us. On the contrary, I am altogether satisfied. And by degrees, perhaps, that maiden distrust of yours that makes you shrink from my kisses, will vanish.
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