At the sight of her he became rigid and a singularly bright shade of pink. Woman's love of silk is not set by fashion; it is bred in the bone; and somewhere, somehow, a woman will have her bit of silk. She had, it was true, accepted doubtfully the pen he had offered. She dressed quickly, pulling on white jeans and a red tee shirt. Rather! Who could help it?” He towered up over her and smiled down at her in his fatherly way. Cathy opened her beauty shop, you know. If this is the young lady, she can perhaps calm him.
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