"How
ashamed I'd be to have her see my wardrobe. I really must brace up
in the matter of shirts, and in the quality of underclothes and
socks." No, she probably would be shocked into aversion if she
really knew him--she, who had been surrounded by servants in
livery all her life; who had always had a maid to dress her, to
arrange a delicious bath for her every morning and every evening,
to lay out, from a vast and thrilling store of delicate clothing,
the fresh, clean, fine, amazingly costly garments that were to
have the honor and the pleasure of draping that aristocratic body
of hers. "Why, her maid," thought he, "is of about the same
appearance and education as my aunts. Old Williams is a far more
cultured person than my uncles or brothers-in-law." Of course,
Selina and Williams were menials, while his male kin were men and
his female relatives women, "and all of them miles ahead of
anything in this gang when it comes to the real thing--character."
Still, so far as appearances went--"I'm getting to be a damned,
cheap snob!" cried he aloud. "To hell with the whole crowd! I want
nothing to do with them!"
But Margaret, in her beautiful garments, diffusing perfume just as
her look and manner diffused the aroma of gentle breeding--The
image of her was most insidiously alluring; he could not banish
it.
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