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320 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1962






Their eyes met, both pairs grey, hers very cool and clear, his faintly smiling... she gave him her hand...
The thought flashed into her mind that she beheld the embodiment of her ideal. It was as instantly banished...
Indulged almost from the hour of her birth; endowed not only with beauty but with a considerable independence as well; encouraged to think herself a matrimonial prize of the first stare, Tiffany had come to regard every unattached man’s homage as her due... Tiffany never consciously deviated from the truth, but since she saw everything only as it affected herself the truth was apt to become somewhat distorted.
“I didn’t make my face, so why shouldn’t I say it’s beautiful? Everyone else does!”
Miss Trent regarded her thoughtfully. "Well, it's an odd circumstance, but I've frequently observed that whenever you boast of your beauty you seem to lose some of it. I expect it must be the change in your expression."
Startled, Tiffany flew to gaze anxiously into the ornate looking-glass which hung above the fireplace. "Do I?" she asked naively. "Really do I, Ancilla?"
"Yes, decidedly," replied Miss Trent, perjuring her soul without the least hesitation.”