\" Diane Vorsack chirped with the grin of a Cheshire Cat, extending her right hand in greeting. On the present occasion, in anticipation of Mr. "I knew how it would be," she cried, in the shrill voice peculiar to a shrew, "when you brought that worthless hussy's worthless brat into the house. She had always had a wonderful ear for phrasing, even back in the days of the viol. To prevent the leaves from blowing about, should a blow develop, he distributed paper weights. It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat.
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