“There you are. I swear, there was a line for the ladies’ room almost out to the lobby. Some of those crazy feminists made it into the hotel, I think.” “Why do you say that?” Ansel asked, peering over his shoulder as if a feminist might lurk just behind him. “Well, the woman in the stall beside me was wearing the most masculine shoes. I think she might have been a lesbian.” “Oh, do shut up, Martha. Wearing sensible shoes doesn’t make a woman a feminist or a lesbian any more than wearing that hideous yellow dress makes you a goddamn banana,” Violet snarked, shaking her head. “I swear, with
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