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out in another state, he knew a woman that swore wearing pearls brought on good luck. when she was complimented on the dazzling array of muted white adorning her wrists and neck, she would tap them with finely manicured nails, nodding violently as if to convey their importance to a deaf man. the woman had no other taste for luxuries; she couldn’t stand furs and insisted on walking or taking public transportation. when the man first met her on a train outside of Baltimore, she was wearing a charm bracelet with miniature pearls that dangled from the links. while the man put away his luggage she opened and closed her paper until the lights bounced off her wrist in a dazzling array. the man remarked on what she was so keen for him to notice. Oh, yes, a gift from an old flame, he had the finest taste in pearls - that’s all I wear, you see. that is something, the man remarked. she introduced herself, a name unremarkable without its attachment to the woman carrying it. his name, Tom, he said.