She wore a black satin dress, a little shiny at the seams, a purposeless bow of white tulle at the back of her neck, and a huge chatelaine. Each time a daughter had been born to him he had concealed his chagrin with great tenderness and effusion from his wife, and had sworn unwontedly and with passionate sincerity in the bathroom. She could see that he was curious, so she sat upon him and they rocked back and forth. “One has to live and learn,” she remarked, with a passable imitation of her father’s manner.
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