The life story of an ugly duckling (1924)

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196 The Ugly Duckling it sounded as if the bell cow had broken out of the pasture. I never could see the sense in owning large quantities of jewelry and keeping it in a safe deposit box or leaving it around in hotels and in taxicabs, or of having closets filled with clothes one never wears. I knew a very wealthy woman in Toronto who owned hundreds and hundreds of dresses — everything she had bought years and years back. One day she was showing them to me and I very frankly told her my opinion of hoarding such things. Heaven knows I didn't want any of them — they wouldn't fit me. An Italian experience which remains quite vividly in my mind is connected with Venice. Lady Colbrook, with whom I was staying, insisted that I should have my portrait painted by Toreltino, a very unusual man and an excellent artist. He had asked me to sit for him several times, but I had made excuses until my hostess finally took matters in her own hands and arranged some appointments. The artist began to paint. After a time, he stopped and threw down his brushes. "I can