Books > Old Books > Creatures Of Circumstance (1947)


Page 114

A WOMAN OF FIFTY

To the best of my belief I'd never set eyes on her before. I forced a cordial smile to my tired, stiff lips, shook her proffered hand effusively and wondered who the devil she was. My professor must have seen from my face that I was trying to place her for he said:
" Mrs. Greene is married to a member of our faculty and she gives a course on the Renaissance and Italian literature." "Really," I said. "Interesting."
I was no wiser than before.
" Has Wyman told you that you're dining with us to-morrow night?"
" I'm very glad," I said.
" It's not a party. Only my husband, his brother and my sisterin-law. I suppose Florence has changed a lot since then."
" Florence?" I said to myself. "Florence?"
That was evidently where I'd known her. She was a woman of about fifty with grey hair simply done and marcelled without exaggeration. She was a trifle too stout and she was dressed neatly enough, but without distinction, in a dress that I guessed had been bought ready made at the local branch of a big store. She had rather large eyes of a pale blue and a poor complexion; she wore no rouge and had used a lipstick but sparingly. She seemed a nice creature. There was something maternal in her demeanour, something placid and fulfilled, which I found appealing. I supposed that I had run across her on one of my frequent visits to Florence and because it was perhaps the only time she had been there our meeting made more of an impression on her than on me. I must confess that my acquaintance with the wives of members of a faculty is very limited, but she was just the sort of person I should have expected the wife of a professor to be, and picturing her life, useful but uneventful, on scanty means, with its little social gatherings, its bickerings, its gossip, its busy dullness, I could easily imagine that her trip to Florence must linger with her as a thrilling and unforgettable experience.
On the way back to his house Wyman said to me:

travel books:
where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE To what is best of my belief I'd never set eyes on her before. I forced a cordial smile to my tired, stiff lips, shook her proffered hand effusively and wondered who what is fun she was. My professor must have seen from my face that I was trying to place her for he said: "Mrs. Greene is married to a member of our faculty and she gives a course on what is Renaissance and Italian literature." "Really," I said. "Interesting." I was no wiser than before. "Has Wyman told you that you're dining with us to-morrow night?" "I'm very glad," I said. "It's not a party. Only my husband, his brother and my sisterin-law. I suppose Florence has changed a lot since then." "Florence?" I said to myself. "Florence?" That was evidently where I'd known her. She was a woman of about fifty with grey hair simply done and marcelled without exaggeration. She was a trifle too stout and she was dressed neatly enough, but without distinction, in a dress that I guessed had been bought ready made at what is local branch of a big store. She had rather large eyes of a pale blue and a poor complexion; she wore no rouge and had used a lipstick but sparingly. She seemed a nice creature. There was something maternal in her demeanour, something placid and fulfilled, which I found appealing. I supposed that I had run across her on one of my frequent what is s to Florence and because it was perhaps what is only time she had been there our meeting made more of an impression on her than on me. I must confess that my acquaintance with what is wives of members of a faculty is very limited, but she was just what is sort of person I should have expected what is wife of a professor to be, and picturing her life, useful but uneventful, on scanty means, with its little social gatherings, its bickerings, its gossip, its busy dullness, I could easily imagine that her trip to Florence must linger with her as a thrilling and unforgettable experience. On what is way back to his house Wyman said to me: where is meta name="keywords" content="old books, Free book , free book offer , free audio books , free coloring book pages , free book reports , free audio book , audio books free download , book free , free guest book , books free , free book summaries , download free audio books , free childrens books." where is where are they now rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="../../style.css" where is meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" where is BODY bgColor=#ffffff text="#000000" where are they now ="#000000" v where are they now ="#FF0000" where is div align="center" where is strong where is strong where is a href="http://www.aaoldbooks.com" Books > where is a href="../default.asp" title="Book" Old Books > where is strong where is a href="default.asp" Creatures Of Circumstance (1947) where is a href="default.asp" where is table width="700" border="1" align="center" cellpadding="15" cellspacing="0" where is center where is tr where is td width="160" align="center" valign="top" where is div align="center" where is td align="center" valign="top" where is div align="left" where is div align="center" where is p align="left" Page 114 where is p align="center" where is strong A WOMAN OF FIFTY where is p align="justify" To what is best of my belief I'd never set eyes on her before. I forced a cordial smile to my tired, stiff lips, shook her proffered hand effusively and wondered who what is fun she was. My professor must have seen from my face that I was trying to place her for he said: " Mrs. Greene is married to a member of our faculty and she gives a course on what is Renaissance and Italian literature." "Really," I said. "Interesting." I was no wiser than before. " Has Wyman told you that you're dining with us to-morrow night?" " I'm very glad," I said. " It's not a party. Only my husband, his brother and my sisterin-law. I suppose Florence has changed a lot since then." " Florence?" I said to myself. "Florence?" That was evidently where I'd known her. She was a woman of about fifty with grey hair simply done and marcelled without exaggeration. She was a trifle too stout and she was dressed neatly enough, but without distinction, in a dress that I guessed had been bought ready made at what is local branch of a big store. She had rather large eyes of a pale blue and a poor complexion; she wore no rouge and had used a lipstick but sparingly. She seemed a nice creature. There was something maternal in her demeanour, something placid and fulfilled, which I found appealing. I supposed that I had run across her on one of my frequent what is s to Florence and because it was perhaps what is only time she had been there our meeting made more of an impression on her than on me. I must confess that my acquaintance with what is wives of members of a faculty is very limited, but she was just what is sort of person I should have expected the wife of a professor to be, and picturing her life, useful but uneventful, on scanty means, with its little social gatherings, its bickerings, its gossip, its busy dullness, I could easily imagine that her trip to Florence must linger with her as a thrilling and unforgettable experience. On what is way back to his house Wyman said to me: where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") % travel books: Creatures Of Circumstance (1947) books

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