She'd be rich and famous and spend winters inPalm Beach. Like organizing a professional women's club in Magnolia. With a premonition of disaster she hurried across thesidewalk to the store. Not again.
Nobody willbother to write back and ask. Clumsy, moving as if drunken, she stumbled to the window and fumbled with her frozen hands to draw it closed. Here she was Lady Iris Cranford. Silently, conscious of the grim communication between Keith and Al, shepoured coffee and joined them at the table.
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