He told her something about music, the great world outside. She posed herself before her mirror and surveyed herself with gravely thoughtful, gravely critical, and yet admiring eyes. "Do you know what you make me think of?" "What?" "As if you had stepped out of some old family album. It was the same smell that she had in his memory, but now it was definite, palpable, like a perfume. Rich folks, once. ” She said.
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