A preposterous woman! Old Wharton ought to have beaten her for her handwriting, and murdered her for her gowns.

Her signature took a sheet of note-paper, and as for her dress I never could get out of her way.

Whatever part of the room I happened to be in I always found my feet tangled in her skirts.
Somehow, I never could understand how she was able to find so much stuff of one pattern.

But it was only to make you notice her, like all the rest.

Every bit of her was a pose, and the maternal pose was the worst of all." "H.S.