It was,
he admitted, as they had repeatedly pointed out, their own money. So a
rendezvous was made between Mrs. Goldsmith and the sextette for
Lessing's store on Michigan Avenue at three o'clock on an afternoon when
Galbraith was to be busy with the principals. He might manage to drop in
before they left to cast his eye over and approve the selection.
It was with some rather uncomfortable misgivings that Rose set out to
revisit a part of town so closely associated with the first year of her
married life. The particular shop wasn't, luckily, one that she had
patronized in that former incarnation. But it was in the same block with
a half dozen that were, and she hadn't been east of Clark Street since
the day Otto had driven her to the Polk Street Station.
The day was cold and blustery--a fact that she was grateful for, as it
gave her an excuse for wearing a thick white veil, which was almost as
good as a mask. It was with a rather breathless excitement that
persisted in feeling like guilt--her heart wouldn't have beaten any
faster, she believed, if she had just robbed a jewelry store and were
walking away with the swag in her pocket--that she debouched out of Van
Buren Street, around the corner of the Chicago Club, and into the
avenue.
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