"I can never,"said Mrs. Fetherel, "hear the bell ring without a shudder."Briefly, Mrs. Fetherel thinks that she has written a 'racy' first novel and is concerned, upon its publication, about its reception.
Her unruffled aspect - she was the kind of woman whose emotions never communicate themselves to her clothes - and the conventional background of the New York drawing room, with its pervading implication of an imminent tea tray and of an atmosphere in which the social functions have become purely reflex, lent to her declaration a relief not lost on her cousin Mrs. Clinch, who, from the other side of the fireplace, agreed, with a glance at the clock, that it was the hour for bores.
Sunday, 20 February 2011
The opening of Edith Wharton's Short Story 'Expiation' which sets the scene admirably.