’ ‘What? But—’ ‘Precisely, Hilary. Her wedding gown! She wondered if the spirit of the unknown mother looked down upon her. About her, as she had gone day by day to and from the Tredgold College, she had seen and not seen many an incidental aspect of those sides of life about which girls are expected to know nothing, aspects that were extraordinarily relevant to her own position and outlook on the world, and yet by convention ineffably remote. She ran through the backyards of Pinecrest subdivision, piano wire and a slim jim tucked into her pantyhose. “I may go to Hatton House later, but you needn’t wait. .
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