Explore "The Fruit of the Tree" by Edith Wharton on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"BUT, Justine -- -- "
Mrs. Harry Dressel, seated in the June freshness of her Oak Street drawing-room, and harmonizing by her high lights and hard edges with the white-and-gold angularities of the best furniture, cast a rebuking eye on her friend Miss Brent, who stood arranging in a glass bowl the handful of roses she had just brought in from the garden.