Nancy is in her room, taking off her pearls, unrolling her stockings and wiping off her lipstick. Her old diary is being wrapped up and boxed away to the attic; packed with mothballs and left to fall apart.
Emily, the new girl around here, wanted to kill her with arsenic in an ice-cream cone, but then Emily is a possibly hysterical lady who has a lot she wants to say. I've told Emily she can start talking when she's finished her book and gotten some clothing on.
Emily's Posts on life, love and etiquette are coming soon.
