I'll never forget my first real party. I was bridesmaid for Caroline Evans, when she married a Birmingham magnate, from which Hillsboro has never yet recovered. It was the week before the wedding. I was sixteen, felt dreadfully unclothed without a tucker in my dress, and saw Alfred for the first time in evening clothes—his first. I can hardly stand thinking about how he looked even now. I haven't been to very many parties in my life, but from this time on I mean to indulge in them often. Candle-light, pretty women's frocks, black coat sleeves, cut glass and flowers are good ingredients for a joy-drink, and why not?
slots567, Jen started, and looked sharply at the old man, who, to all appearances, was answering his questions with all possible candor.
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slots567 "Yes," assented Jen, turning his sharp eyes on Isabella, "and you--do you believe in this Voodoo stone also?".
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