FREE BOOKS

Author's List




PREV.   NEXT  
|<   117   118   119   120   121   122   123   124   125   126   127   128   129   130   131   132   133   134   135   136   137   138   139   140   141  
142   143   144   145   146   147   148   149   150   151   152   153   154   155   156   157   158   159   160   161   162   163   164   165   166   >>   >|  
pple body in lines that a sculptor dreams of and never achieves. Ray Willets finished straightening her counter. Trade was slow. She moved idly in the direction of the black-garbed figure that flitted about in the costly atmosphere of the French section. It must be a very special customer to claim Miss Jevne's expert services. Ray glanced in through the half-opened glass and ivory-enamel doors. "Here, girl," called Miss Jevne. Ray paused and entered. Miss Jevne was frowning. "Miss Myrtle's busy. Just slip this on. Careful now. Keep your arms close to your head." She slipped a marvellously wrought garment over Ray's sleek head. Fluffy drifts of equally exquisite lingerie lay scattered about on chairs, over mirrors, across showtables. On one of the fragile little ivory-and-rose chairs, in the centre of the costly little room, sat a large, blonde, perfumed woman who clanked and rustled and swished as she moved. Her eyes were white-lidded and heavy, but strangely bright. One ungloved hand was very white too, but pudgy and covered so thickly with gems that your eye could get no clear picture of any single stone or setting. Ray, clad in the diaphanous folds of the _robe-de-nuit_ that was so beautifully adorned with delicate embroideries wrought by the patient, needle-scarred fingers of some silent, white-faced nun in a far-away convent, paced slowly up and down the short length of the room that the critical eye of this coarse, unlettered creature might behold the wonders woven by this weary French nun, and, beholding, approve. "It ain't bad," spake the blonde woman grudgingly. "How much did you say?" "Ninety-five," Miss Jevne made answer smoothly. "I selected it myself when I was in France my last trip. A bargain." She slid the robe carefully over Ray's head. The frown came once more to her brow. She bent close to Ray's ear. "Your waist's ripped under the left arm. Disgraceful!" The blonde woman moved and jangled a bit in her chair. "Well, I'll take it," she sighed. "Look at the colour on that girl! And it's real too." She rose heavily and came over to Ray, reached up and pinched her cheek appraisingly with perfumed white thumb and forefinger. "That'll do, girl," said Miss Jevne sweetly. "Take this along and change these ribbons from blue to pink." Ray Willets bore the fairy garment away with her. She bore it tenderly, almost reverently. It was more than a garment. It represented in her mind a new standa
PREV.   NEXT  
|<   117   118   119   120   121   122   123   124   125   126   127   128   129   130   131   132   133   134   135   136   137   138   139   140   141  
142   143   144   145   146   147   148   149   150   151   152   153   154   155   156   157   158   159   160   161   162   163   164   165   166   >>   >|  



Top keywords:
garment
 

blonde

 

chairs

 
wrought
 

perfumed

 

costly

 

Willets

 

French

 

length

 

smoothly


answer

 
France
 

silent

 
slowly
 
critical
 

convent

 

selected

 

wonders

 

behold

 

grudgingly


approve

 

unlettered

 

Ninety

 

beholding

 

creature

 
coarse
 

sweetly

 

forefinger

 

reached

 

heavily


pinched

 

appraisingly

 
change
 

reverently

 

represented

 

standa

 

tenderly

 

ribbons

 

carefully

 

bargain


ripped
 
sighed
 

colour

 

Disgraceful

 

jangled

 
called
 

paused

 
entered
 
frowning
 

enamel