He was the junior of both his sisters, co-educated and much broken in to feminine society. She met the keen grey eyes of a clean-shaven man, between forty and fifty, quietly dressed in professional attire. He cherished her. It had been his fevered imagination that had endued the garment with some extraordinary value. It was a hoax, it was the only thing possible, until she heard Cathy say, “Let me hold those for you.
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