But I never saw anybody with more style--no, not if it was that Mrs.Pletheridge who is everlastingly in the Sunday papers.

I declare Florrie's waist didn't look much bigger round than the leg of that table--honestly it didn't--and her hat was perched on a bandeau so high that you could see the new sort of way she'd gone and had her hair crimped--they call it Marcellin' up here, don't they ?" "Was she with George ?" asked Gabriella indifferently.
"They were goin' to some restaurant or another for tea, I reckon, and they certainly were a fine-lookin' pair.

I wish you could have seen 'em.
Not that you wouldn't have been a match for 'em," she added consolingly.
"You and Mr.George look mighty well when you're together.

You're just on a level, and if you could manage to tighten yo' corset a little mite at the waist, and hold yo'self with that bend out at the back the way Florrie does, you'd have pretty near as fine a figure as she has.

Ain't it funny," she added irrelevantly, "but I was just studyin' last night about the way yo' ma used to say that all yo' folks married badly.