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Edith Wharton
The Custom of the Country
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3094911The Custom of the Countryhttps://www.gandhi.com.mx/the-custom-of-the-country-9786050473353/phttps://gandhi.vtexassets.com/arquivos/ids/2901012/7781e43b-c6ac-42f8-9cee-1b3bc71c7226.jpg?v=6383846047760700006464MXNSimone VanniniInStock/Ebooks/<p>"Undine Spragghow can you?" her mother wailed, raising a prematurely-wrinkled hand heavy with rings to defend the note which a languid "bell-boy" had just brought in.<br />But her defence was as feeble as her protest, and she continued to smile on her visitor while Miss Spragg, with a turn of her quick young fingers, possessed herself of the missive and withdrew to the window to read it.<br />"I guess its meant for me," she merely threw over her shoulder at her mother.<br />"Did you EVER, Mrs. Heeny?" Mrs. Spragg murmured with deprecating pride.<br />Mrs. Heeny, a stout professional-looking person in a waterproof, her rusty veil thrown back, and a shabby alligator bag at her feet, followed the mothers glance with good-humoured approval.<br />"I never met with a lovelier form," she agreed, answering the spirit rather than the letter of her hostesss enquiry.<br />Mrs. Spragg and her visitor were enthroned in two heavy gilt armchairs in one of the private drawing-rooms of the Hotel Stentorian. The Spragg rooms were known as one of the Looey suites, and the drawing-room walls, above their wainscoting of highly-varnished mahogany, were hung with salmon-pink damask and adorned with oval portraits of Marie Antoinette and the Princess de Lamballe.</p>...3030954The Custom of the Country6464https://www.gandhi.com.mx/the-custom-of-the-country-9786050473353/phttps://gandhi.vtexassets.com/arquivos/ids/2901012/7781e43b-c6ac-42f8-9cee-1b3bc71c7226.jpg?v=638384604776070000InStockMXN99999DIEbook20169786050473353_W3siaWQiOiJhODJmM2FkYy0wMWRhLTQwZjctOTc0Mi01MTBkMjBiN2ZmMDQiLCJsaXN0UHJpY2UiOjU5LCJkaXNjb3VudCI6MCwic2VsbGluZ1ByaWNlIjo1OSwiaW5jbHVkZXNUYXgiOnRydWUsInByaWNlVHlwZSI6IkFnZW5jeSIsImN1cnJlbmN5IjoiTVhOIiwiZnJvbSI6IjIwMjQtMDQtMTJUMTQ6MDA6MDBaIiwicmVnaW9uIjoiTVgiLCJpc1ByZW9yZGVyIjpmYWxzZX1d9786050473353_<p>Undine Spragghow can you? her mother wailed, raising a prematurely-wrinkled hand heavy with rings to defend the note which a languid bell-boy had just brought in.<br />But her defence was as feeble as her protest, and she continued to smile on her visitor while Miss Spragg, with a turn of her quick young fingers, possessed herself of the missive and withdrew to the window to read it.<br />I guess its meant for me, she merely threw over her shoulder at her mother.<br />Did you EVER, Mrs. Heeny? Mrs. Spragg murmured with deprecating pride.<br />Mrs. Heeny, a stout professional-looking person in a waterproof, her rusty veil thrown back, and a shabby alligator bag at her feet, followed the mothers glance with good-humoured approval.<br />I never met with a lovelier form, she agreed, answering the spirit rather than the letter of her hostesss enquiry.<br />Mrs. Spragg and her visitor were enthroned in two heavy gilt armchairs in one of the private drawing-rooms of the Hotel Stentorian. The Spragg rooms were known as one of the Looey suites, and the drawing-room walls, above their wainscoting of highly-varnished mahogany, were hung with salmon-pink damask and adorned with oval portraits of Marie Antoinette and the Princess de Lamballe.</p>...(*_*)9786050473353_<p>"Undine Spragghow can you?" her mother wailed, raising a prematurely-wrinkled hand heavy with rings to defend the note which a languid "bell-boy" had just brought in.<br />But her defence was as feeble as her protest, and she continued to smile on her visitor while Miss Spragg, with a turn of her quick young fingers, possessed herself of the missive and withdrew to the window to read it.<br />"I guess its meant for me," she merely threw over her shoulder at her mother.<br />"Did you EVER, Mrs. Heeny?" Mrs. Spragg murmured with deprecating pride.<br />Mrs. Heeny, a stout professional-looking person in a waterproof, her rusty veil thrown back, and a shabby alligator bag at her feet, followed the mothers glance with good-humoured approval.<br />"I never met with a lovelier form," she agreed, answering the spirit rather than the letter of her hostesss enquiry.<br />Mrs. Spragg and her visitor were enthroned in two heavy gilt armchairs in one of the private drawing-rooms of the Hotel Stentorian. The Spragg rooms were known as one of the Looey suites, and the drawing-room walls, above their wainscoting of highly-varnished mahogany, were hung with salmon-pink damask and adorned with oval portraits of Marie Antoinette and the Princess de Lamballe.</p>...9786050473353_Edith Wharton(*_*)9786050473353_Simone Vanninilibro_electonico_15ff64f3-3eb9-3725-a0d5-8e982d231d19_9786050473353;9786050473353_9786050473353Edith WhartonInglésMéxicohttps://getbook.kobo.com/koboid-prod-public/simplicissimus-epub-32678b77-1225-4d69-beab-e1d686834c59.epub2016-07-05T00:00:00+00:00Simone Vannini