And you’ll look like hell when they’re through with you.
Such Is Life
By JANE GAITES
I am happily married. My wife is as good as she is beautiful. Following is a brief description of her:
Her hair ripples into alluring little golden ringlets about her rosy cheeks. Her eyes are large and brown and are fringed with exquisitely long eyelashes. Her lips are almost perfectly formed and she has the sweetest smile in all the world.
I love to fondle and amuse her. I kiss the white neck, her lips, her hands—and I dream. Why shouldn’t I dream—does not every happily married man live in fancy? My dream, good God, brings to me a terrible realization!
Before me is not my wife, but her sister, a girl of eighteen years, who is said to be her living image. Their features are almost identical.
The girl’s lips, however, are delicately perfect. Her eyes, if possible, are even more expressive than those of the other woman, and are larger. Her hair, when opened out, tumbles like a great waterfall down her back.