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had been wafted aboard the Helena without an unnecessary motion or a single complaint. PeterLinda giggledwell, of course, he had nearly fallen into the water, but even perfect organization can meet its match, and Peter was a match for anything. |
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Linda fluffed her hair with her comb, pulled the ruffles at her wrists free, and smoothed her hands across the rose-colored skirt that clung to her hips and then swept to the floor in graceful folds. When she turned to lay the comb down, her knee brushed the narrow bunk bed and her outstretched hand nearly touched the wall. The little cabin was nothing like the suite Mrs. Bates had, nor much like her own usual luxurious accommodations. Linda could not deny that she now looked forward to regaining that luxury, but for the time being she was content to have her privacy. Gertrude had obviously thought Linda was mad when she said she would prefer this single, tourist-class cabin to having Mrs. Bates get a larger suite and sharing that. But Gertrude did not plan to dance away the nights and walk the moonlit decks after Mrs. Bates was alseep. |
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Content with what she saw in the mirror and her plans, Linda took the elevator up and knocked at the door of Mrs. Bates's sitting room. Gertrude opened it and smiled at her. |
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"My, you look nice, Miss. Is that a new skirt?" |
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"Yes, shhh," Linda whispered conspiratorially. "I was extravagant in Paris. I bought two blouses and another skirt." |
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