Constance Widgett’s abundant copper-red hair was bent down over some dimly remunerative work—stencilling in colors upon rough, white material—at a kitchen table she had dragged up-stairs for the purpose, while on her bed there was seated a slender lady of thirty or so in a dingy green dress, whom Constance had introduced with a wave of her hand as Miss Miniver. One can't help being jealous, you know, even of an unworthy object. ” She saw him flinch, but he gave no sign of it in his tone. ’ ‘Oh, do they?’ Gerald said, sudden wrath kindling. \"The way they smell,\" said Michelle.
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