You 've no idea what an eerie noise a great drop of rain falling with a mushy thud on a bare floor makes in the night . It sounds like ghostly footsteps and all that sort of thing . What are you laughing over , Anne ? '' `` These stories . As Phil would say they are killing -- in more senses than one , for everybody died in them . What dazzlingly lovely heroines we had -- and how we dressed them ! `` Silks -- satins -- velvets -- jewels -- laces -- they never wore anything else . Here is one of Jane Andrews ' stories depicting her heroine as sleeping in a beautiful white satin nightdress trimmed with seed pearls . '' `` Go on , '' said Stella . `` I begin to feel that life is worth living as long as there 's a laugh in it . '' `` Here 's one I wrote . My heroine is disporting herself at a ball ` glittering from head to foot with large diamonds of the first water . ' But what booted beauty or rich attire ? ` The paths of glory lead but to the grave . ' They must either be murdered or die of a broken heart . There was no escape for them . '' `` Let me read some of your stories . '' `` Well , here 's my masterpiece . Note its cheerful title -- ` My Graves . ' I shed quarts of tears while writing it , and the other girls shed gallons while I read it .
Jane XXXXX ' mother scolded her frightfully because she had so many handkerchiefs in the wash that week .
Andrews Anne Phil Silks Stella escape first night satins velvets