THIS, this glissade, would be damned scoundrelism. “In all fairness,” she thought to herself as she coaxed his mouth toward her left nipple. And at length her penultimate day in Morningside Park dawned for her. The eminent painter had handsome, expressive features, an aquiline nose, and a good deal of dignity in his manner. "I must tell you," she was saying. Both ladies were on easy and friendly terms with all that was best in Morningside Park society; they had an afternoon once a month that was quite well attended, they sometimes gave musical evenings, they dined out and gave a finish to people’s dinners, they had a full-sized croquet lawn and tennis beyond, and understood the art of bringing people together.
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