“Have you turned him yet?” Michelle whispered
hotly, trying not to raise the volume of her voice. A neighbor
stopped by as the day wore on, causing her to duck and
cower as he rang the doorbell over and over. Gerald was conscious of that sliver of irritation again at mention of the name. I want you to turn
me. CHAPTER THE THIRD
THE MORNING OF THE CRISIS
Part 1
Two days after came the day of the Crisis, the day of the Fadden Dance. Love and companionship. Too easily roused emotions and too little passion. . . “To the best of my belief, I
have never seen the man in my life. ‘Trespasses,’ supplied Gerald. There are so many girls nowadays who are quite unpresentable at
tea, with their untrimmed laughs, their awful dispositions of their legs when they
sit down, their slangy disrespect; they no longer smoke, it is true, like the girls of
the eighties and nineties, nevertheless to a fine intelligence they have the flavor
of tobacco. “So long as I am your father, so long as your life is entrusted to my care, I feel
bound by every obligation to use my authority to check this odd disposition of
yours toward extravagant enterprises.
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