Daughters of Castle Deverill
“She was now an established presence in the gossip columns, at the theatre, in the elegant uptown restaurants and cafés and, of course, in the smoky underground speakeasies of Harlem. Her sorrow was a silent current beneath the hard shield that she had built around herself for protection against memory and melancholy. Like ice on a river it was beautiful to look at but cold. Her life was lived on the surface where everything was superficial and gay and without a care. Happiness was acquired in t...he same way that she acquired everything: with money. The moment she felt a tremor of gloom she headed out to the shops to buy more happiness in the form of expensive clothes and hats, shoes and bags, feathers and sequins, diamonds and pearls. The boutiques were full of happiness and she had the means to procure as much of it as she wanted.
There were men; plenty of men. She was never without a suitor and she took her pleasure when she wanted it. In those midnight hours when darkness wrapped its soft hands around her and lovers caressed her with tender fingers the silent current swelled and grew inside her, breaking against her heart in waves of longing.MoreLess
There were men; plenty of men. She was never without a suitor and she took her pleasure when she wanted it. In those midnight hours when darkness wrapped its soft hands around her and lovers caressed her with tender fingers the silent current swelled and grew inside her, breaking against her heart in waves of longing.MoreLess
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