Her hair, once red, faded to a thin gray that she kept cut into a practical short bob. ’ ‘And if she can’t?’ asked Lucy. We stopped for a moment to watch it, and almost immediately it was turned out. ‘Like you?’ ‘But I am not French. How you dress when you're loafing will be no concern of mine; but fresh twill or Shantung, when you dine with me, collar and tie. I put my foot down like—like adamant. “Call me Cathy, John.
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