Written by Gertrude Atherton x5o5i
Gertrude Atherton 3b2v16
Gita made a face in the heavy shade of the bed-hangings, but replied politely: “I am glad to be here, grandmother, and when it’s my turn to die I’ll take all the time I choose.” She had a crisp clear voice and a staccato delivery, which she made no attempt to modify in the sick-room, and the old lady frowned. The gray old voice, with its sudden mom.. 5o2a4l
Gertrude Atherton 3b2v16
Clive had spent seven days on the ocean, three in the furious energy of New York, and six on a transcontinental train, whose discomforts made him wonder if he had a moral right to enter the embarrassing state of matrimony with a temper hopelessly soured. As he had come to California to marry, and as his betrothed was at a hotel in the northern redw..