The middle aged woman
was deep in conversation with the Colonel’s son, a smart young lieutenant
himself.
The lady walked around the pillar to get a better look at
this stranger, but her effort was to be in vain, for some of her friends barged
in between and struck up conversation.
A couple of drinks, a dance or two, and few random
conversations later, the lady had quite settled into the flow of the
festivities. Despite the strain of the past fortnight, she surprised herself
with the amount of enthusiasm she could muster. And so, the gaiety continued…
and it would have, had she not noticed the hems of the silver gown, yet again.
This time, the lieutenant had disappeared, but the woman was
in conversation with another man, his back to the dance floor. Her face was
pale, but the dark brown of her hair and eyes, coupled with the sharp nose, and
high cheek bones made it an attractive package. Then there was that hour glass
frame, the generous bosom. The long slender fingers brushed his coat’s lapels,
before resting on his shoulder. As the pitch began to rise, she swayed
gracefully, matching her moves to that of her partner, the lawyer.
‘It’s only a dance’,
she thought to herself.
But she was soon heard, telling anyone who struck up
conversation with her, that Ms. X powdered face had been conquered by the
‘crow’s feet’, the pearls were a fake and despite it being the first time that
the lady had seen her, she assured some of the more naïve guests, that the
woman in question had put on a good ten pounds in weight!
A dance rolled into ‘few dances’. The lady now had a throbbing
skull, and it wouldn’t be long before she’d have to pop the aspirin.
It was as the particular number reached a crescendo, that she
thought she saw Ms. X slip something into the lawyer’s pocket. Their eyes, with only each other to gaze at,
conveyed a million unspoken words.
The throbbing in the lady’s head was now a frank, incessant
pounding.
Soon after the lawyer, was by his lady’s side. And seeing as
she was quite unwell, they quietly retreated home.
Hell hath no fury, they say, as a woman scorned!
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