At the bottom of the trunk I found two of my mother's dresses. She was the social leader of Morningside Park, and in her superficial and euphuistic way an extremely kind and pleasant woman. It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat. Montressor’s guests were. Stanley, produced a portrait from its hiding-place in the jewel-drawer under the mirror. That was the inconvenience of it; her head was swimming. She had changed into dungarees herself and kept her hair as it was. Gosse had to release his clamp on her mouth, for the awkwardness of the position made it impossible to negotiate the little stair.
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