Twain's End
“January 8, 1909 Stormfield, Redding, Connecticut A LANTERN SWINGING IN HER hand, Isabel gained ground on the frail top-hatted figure striding down the road with his overcoat flapping. She regretted not taking the time to put on her galoshes before pursuing Mr. Gabrilowitsch. Snow was seeping into her pumps, and now her stockings would be wet while she entertained Miss Keller and the unhappy Macys, at least until she was released when they changed for dinner. However, it looked as if she might c...atch Mr. Gabrilowitsch. He hadn’t gotten far—not even to the lighted carriage house. Like many men, he seemed incapable of the brisk pace that most women could achieve even while in the grips of a corset. Women were perpetually hobbled by long skirts, silly shoes, and steel-ribbed foundations, yet still they outran their men. Now that she thought about it, how appropriately “stays” were named—it was not just flesh that was to be kept in its place.
“Mr. Gabrilowitsch!” she called.
He looked over his shoulder.MoreLess
“Mr. Gabrilowitsch!” she called.
He looked over his shoulder.MoreLess
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