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from Brown Corpus
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In the small gallery used as the guests' dining room, Meredith sat down at his place and, as always, began teasing the young waitress.
He was asking had it been she who left the love note in his sheets ( she also served as maid ) when he saw the Grafin followed by a stately blond girl approaching his table.
It would be literary license calculated to glamorize life to say that he, oh, dropped his napkin, so startled was he by Mary Jane's beauty.
Yet he did drop his badinage with the ordinary country girl as much in deference to the Grafin as acknowledgement that here, indeed, was something special.
Mary Jane had made very little effort.
Above a dark green skirt she wore a pale green cashmere sweater with, as he soon perceived, no brassiere beneath.
Her white blond hair was clean and brushed long straight down to her shoulders.
Perhaps her eyes were larger and more of a summer blue for all they had seen and wept that day.
She had touched her face, truly a noble and pure face, only with a lip salve which made her lips glisten but no redder than usual.
The result was grace and modesty.
As she was rather tired this evening, her simple `` Thank you for the use of your bath '' -- when she sat down opposite him -- spoken in a low voice, came across with coolnesses of intelligence and control.
Meredith began falling in love.

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