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Flappers and Philosophers

Part 2 The Ice Palace Chapter 2

Word Count: 1132    |    Released on: 19/11/2017

and Sally Carrol had met in Asheville, North Carolina, in midsummer. The settlement took only a quiet afternoon and an evening in front of a glowing open fire, for Harry Bella

y toward one of her favorite haunts, the cemetery. When it came in sight, gray-white a

ature, Harry?" she ask

ful?"

e. It depresses some

for the fifties; quaintly carved with flowers and jars for the seventies; ornate and hideous for the nineties, with

ver most of the graves lay silence and withered leaves with only the

onted by a tall, round head-stone, freckled with

e? She died when she was twenty-nine. Dear Margery

Sally

e hand insert i

e her hair with a ribbon in it, and gorgeo

es

wide, pillared porch and welcome folks in. I think perhaps a lot of men wen

o the stone, hunting fo

othing her

anything there better than just 'Ma

ected lump came into his throat as

she was, don'

ugh your precious eyes. You're beautif

houlders trembling a little. An ambling breeze swept

go down

ere along the green turf were a thousand grayish-white crosses stre

ederate dead," said

riptions, always only a name and a

way over there. Every cross has just

m and her eyes b

eal it is to me, darlin

about it is be

s, "people have these dreams they fasten onto things, and I've always grown up with that dream. It was so easy because it was all dead and there weren't any disillusions comin' to me. I've tried in a way to live up to those past standards of noblesse oblige - there's just the last remnants of it, you know, like the

he assured her

eyes on the tip of a handkerchief

ver? Even when I cry I'm happy here,

g soft grass she drew him down to a seat beside her wit

d clear out," he complained. "I

, t

and then she kissed him until the sky seemed to fade out and all

ile on the corners twilight played at somnolen

and if you've never really seen snow it'll be like fairy-land to you. There'll be skating and skiing and tobogganing and sleigh-r

d, Harry?" she

your nose, but you won't be shivery

child. I don't like an

they were both s

d very slowly, "what

I lov

ar

h, Ha

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Flappers and Philosophers
Flappers and Philosophers
“This unlikely story begins on a sea that was a blue dream, as colorful as blue-silk stockings, and beneath a sky as blue as the irises of children’s eyes. From the western half of the sky the sun was shying little golden disks at the sea — if you gazed intently enough you could see them skip from wave tip to wave tip until they joined a broad collar of golden coin that was collecting half a mile out and would eventually be a dazzling sunset. About half-way between the Florida shore and the golden collar a white steam-yacht, very young and graceful, was riding at anchor and under a blue-and-white awning aft a yellow-haired girl reclined in a wicker settee reading The Revolt of the Angels, by Anatole France.”