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Linda Condon

Chapter 9 No.9

Word Count: 1141    |    Released on: 06/12/2017

alked down Fifth Avenue toward the hairdresser's. There was a diffused gray sparkle of sunlight-it was early for the throngs-through which they passed rapidly to the accompanime

cut suits she affected, had never

ed idiotically at the spectacle of a countryman fearfully making the sharp descent from the top of a lurching omnibus. And then, when they had reached the place of Mrs. Cond

waved than anything they had yet seen. M. Joseph would be ready almost immediately; and in the meanwhile Mrs. Condon could lay as

hite basin, water-taps and rubber tubes. Settled, in comfort, Mrs. Condon's hair was spread out in a bright metal tray fastened

t positively is Lillian Russell." While she talked her hands sped with incredible rapidity and skill. "The gentlemen don't notice it; of course not; oh, no! Ther

deal of style, a great deal-almost, you might say, like an Egyptian. In the movies las

as poured over her mother's head. M. Joseph strutted in, a small carefully dressed man with a diminutive pointed gray beard and formal curled mustache. He spoke with what Linda supposed w

ad to think about him all over. The result of this was a surprising dislike; she hated, even, to see hi

n twisted green wires were a great number of the strangest things imaginable: they were as thick as her wrist, but round, longer and hollow, white china inside and covered with brown wrapping. The wires of each, sh

oothness. "Just the front?" he inquired. Not waiting for Mrs. Condon's reply, he detached a strand from the mass over her brow, impaled it on a hairpin, while he picked up what might have been a thick steel knitting-n

unted, was repeated fifteen times; and when it was accomplished she was unable to repress a nervous laughter. Really, her mother looked too queer for words: the long

out the hair fastened on a spindle, tied it in turn, and dragged down one of the brown objects on wires, which, to Linda's great astonishment, fitted precisely over the cotton-bound hair. Again, fifteen times, M. Joseph did this, fastening each connection with the turn of a screw

ce at his apparatus, moved a handle as far as it would go. Nothing immediately happened, and

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