The Massarenes
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The opening
CHAPTER I.
“Mouse,” said her husband to Lady Kenilworth, one morning at Homburg, “do you see that large pale woman over there, with a face like a crumpled whitey-brown paper bag?”
Lady Kenilworth looked.
“Yes,” she said, impatiently. “Yes. Well?—what?—why?”
“Well, she rolls—she absolutely rolls—wallows—biggest pile ever made out West.”
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