"What?"
"There's somebody at the gate in a big red automobile. She's comin'
in. You go an' see what she wants, 'cause my apron ain't fresh.
Likely she's lost her way or else is huntin' board."
Although Willie shuffled obediently into the hall he was not in time to
prevent the sonorous peal of the bell.
"Yes, he's here," they heard him say. "Of course you can speak to him.
He's just inside. Won't you step in?"
Then without further ado, and with utter disregard of Celestina's
rumpled apron, the door opened and the little inventor ushered into the
string-entangled sitting room a dainty, city-bred girl in a sport suit
of white serge. She was not only pretty but she was perfectly groomed
and was possessed of a fascinating vivacity and charm. Everything
about her was vivid: the gloss of her brown hair, the sparkle of her
eyes, her color, her smile, her immaculate clothes--all were dazzling.
She carried her splendor with an air of complete sureness as if she was
accustomed to the supremacy it won for her and expected it.
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