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Show 208 large, erect and expansive, in his slightly brutal goori-humor; she quiet, beautiful, chic. Nighttime was the crest. He likeri people, anri Harriet invited people in, a bit of festivity that caused its problems. All the dependents had brought one evening gown, and complained of the lack of opportunity to wear that one; now the complaints lay on the other side. Each evaning was avaning-gown time. "Might as well," sairi Phyllis about her red taffeta, "sleep in the damn thing." Harriet seemed to have no such worries, for her supply was enriless. A white silk, a flowered print, an orchid tulle, a lemon-colored moire - these were worn once, discussed by others, and put away, to be replaced by others which, in superb originality, combined the old with the new: a scarf bought by the General at the PX, a jacket given her by the employees of the Labor Office. "All J_ wish for," sid Phyllis, after one disastrous evening, "is spot-remover." And, it was observed, Harriet's personality matcheri her clothes: one evening she would be bright and scintillating - eclatante, said Evelyn (with the slightest touch of "r" around the "1"),another sweet and feminine, allowing the General to fish the olive out of her martini. Again she was piquant and hoydenish, with her hair in pigtails and her feet in sandals. (That evening there had been a misunderstanding, and the other ladies came formal.) |