The destroying angel hurried by, shrouded in his gloomiest apparel. He got out of the car and lifted her from the convertible before she could open the door. Vanity was a vice not just to be deprecated, but effectively strangled at birth. Melusine ran up the stairway after him, her point flailing to frighten him into allowing her access to the chapel. But the love of life prevailed over his fears. She slipped on a white clingy imitation silk tee-shirt, a sexy number that Shari had bought on super-sale at the Limited. She fixed her eyes upon it and ran, keeping always as far as possible in the shadow of the hedge, gazing fearfully every now and then down along the valley for the white smoke of the train.
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