In the Park

           

           “Whatareyougoingtodowithyourselvestoday,girls?”askedPhilippa,poppingintoAnne’sroomoneSaturdayafternoon.

           “Wearegoingforawalkinthepark,”answeredAnne.“Ioughttostayinandfinishmyblouse.ButIcouldn’tsewonadaylikethis.There’ssomethingintheairthatgetsintomybloodandmakesasortofgloryinmysoul.MyfingerswouldtwitchandI’dsewacrookedseam.Soit’shofortheparkandthepines.”

           “Does‘we’includeanyonebutyourselfandPriscilla?”

           “Yes,itincludesGilbertandCharlie,andwe’llbeverygladifitwillincludeyou,also.”

           “But,”saidPhilippadolefully,“ifIgoI’llhavetobegooseberry,andthatwillbeanewexperienceforPhilippaGordon.”

           “Well,newexperiencesarebroadening.Comealong,andyou’llbeabletosympathizewithallpoorsoulswhohavetoplaygooseberryoften.Butwhereareallthevictims?”

           “Oh,Iwastiredofthemallandsimplycouldn’tbebotheredwithanyofthemtoday.Besides,I’vebeenfeelingalittlebluejustapale,elusiveazure.Itisn’tseriousenoughforanythingdarker.IwroteAlecandAlonzolastweek.Iputthelettersintoenvelopesandaddressedthem,butIdidn’tsealthemup.Thateveningsomethingfunnyhappened.Thatis,Alecwouldthinkitfunny,butAlonzowouldn’tbelikelyto.Iwasinahurry,soIsnatchedAlec’sletterasIthoughtoutoftheenvelopeandscribbleddownapostscript.ThenImailedbothletters.IgotAlonzo’sreplythismorning.Girls,Ihadputthatpostscripttohisletterandhewasfurious.

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