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Unformatted text preview: en's necks. She could watch a whole movie just to get a load of Tom Be- renger's neck. Then there was that constant good humor. When had she ever not gotten a smile from Uncle Michael, and often she'd gotten winks. She loved those immense and amazingly innocent blue eyes. Downright flashy, Bea had said once, but she'd meant it as a compliment. "The man's just sort of too vivid!" Even Gifford had understood that. Usually when a man was that well-built, he was an idiot. Intelligent Mayfair men were always perfectly proportioned. If Brooks Brothers or Burberrys' couldn't fit you, you were illegitimate. They'd put poi- son in your tea. And they behaved like windup toys once they came home from Harvard, always combed and tanned, and shaking people's hands. Even Cousin Pierce, Ryan's pride and joy, was turning out that way-a shining replica of his father, down to the Princeton cut of the blond hair, and loving Cousin Clancy was perfect for Pierce. She was a small clone of Aunt Gifford-only without the pain. 1 hey looked like they were made of vinyl, Pierce an...
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- Spring '10