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Atherton, Gertrude Franklin Horn, 1857-1948

"Sleeping Fires: a Novel"

McLane had had time to drink a second cup of tea.
"My head spins. Where shall I begin? The gowns she wore in Berlin
were made at Worth's. Where else? She still wears golden-brown, and
amber, and green--sometimes azure--blue at night. She looked like a
fairy queen in blue gauze and diamond stars in her hair one night at
the American Legation--"
"How does she wear her hair?"
"There she is not so much a la mode. She has studied her own style,
and has found several ways of dressing it that become her--sometimes
in a low coil, almost on her neck, sometimes on top of her head in a
braid like a coronet, sometimes in a soft psyche knot. There never
was anything monotonous about Madeleine."
"I'm going to try every one tomorrow. Has she any children?"
"One. She left him at their place in Virginia. I saw his picture. A
beauty, of course."
Mrs. Ballinger raised her pencilled eyebrows and glanced at Maria.
Mrs. Abbott gave a deep rumbling groan.
"Poor Howard!"
"He dreed his weird," said Mrs. McLane indifferently. "He couldn't
help it. Neither could Madeleine."
"Well, I'd like to hear something more about Langdon Masters,"
announced Guadalupe Bascom. "That is, if you have all satisfied your
curiosity about Madeleine's clothes. He is the one man I never could
twist around my finger and I've never forgotten him.


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