She could smile at this, but with lips as blue and shriveled as drowned
flesh.
One night after she had dozed off and wandered into some phantasmagoria
where she seemed to fancy herself seated in the bow of a boat with her
daughter, she opened her eyes suddenly, reaching out for Lilly's hand.
"Lilly, your poor mother. Do you ever think of her?"
"Yes, yes, I do, dear."
"You remember, Lilly, how she used to rush down right from the breakfast
table to the bargain bins for those pink and blue mill-ends she used to
dress you so pretty in. My! wasn't she one for Valenciennes lace,
though! Wouldn't she just dress Zoe up, though--"
"Wouldn't she!"
"She was a good woman in her way, Lilly, even with all her fussing and
nagging. My! how she did used to nag! I understood her. The ketchup. She
was a great one for condiments and would have them all over the other
boarders. Ketchup and the best cut of the meat for you and your father.
There was just no pleasing her. But I understood her--she's a good
woman, Lilly."
"Indeed, mamma is good!"
"It's not that I don't glory in you, Lilly, and your having a wonder
child.
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