Mountain Ice (David Dean Mysteries) (Chapter 3, page 1 of 17)


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Cynthia glanced at her husband, a troubled look on her face as if to express her continued concern over the departing woman. However, she said nothing in deference to Edith Shipton's son who remained engrossed with his puzzle. Cynthia took Edith's place on the sofa and began folding the ancient underwear. "I hope the Boston sisters find some use for theses awful things. The dress is pretty but I can't imagine having to wear these undies!"

"'I dreamed I married a minister in my-.'"

"Be nice," Cynthia cautioned, cutting off her husband.

Dean thought of a few more snappy comebacks but kept the rest of his thoughts to himself in front of Donnie. He just smiled at Cynthia, who could read his mind. He began helping her by handing her the clothes. "What's this thing-a-ma-jig called?" he asked, picking up one of the items.

"It's a chemise," Cynthia answered, folding yet another article. "This is a camisole. And I think you best keep your thoughts to yourself."

"It's enough to make Victoria really keep a secret."

"Gentlemen don't stare at ladies' unmentionables."

"I'm only interested in the historical implications," he said.

Fred left the room and returned with a pencil and pad. "I best make an inventory of this stuff before I turn it over to the ladies. That way, when they see how many items they're getting, they'll realize what a bargain I'm giving 'em."

"Right," said Dean, with a wink to his wife.

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