Explore "Mothers of Men" by William Henry Warner on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The little apartment in the Avenue d'Antin shone like a carefully kept doll's house. Marie, indulging her fancy for dainty clothes, went about the tiny rooms dressed in the prettiest frocks in her modest _trousseau_.
There were visits back and forth between her cousins and herself. Fleurette and Sidonie spent long afternoons with her, which she did her best to fill with interest and enjoyment for them, getting out her finest china for the afternoon chocolate. They never ceased to wonder at her new dignity, her staid little air of matronliness, secretly promising themselves to copy it when they should be married. When the time came for Julie to call for them, it always seemed too soon, and Marie used to stand at her window and wave good-bye to them till they had turned the corner.