The first thing Z understood was that perfection is a measurement, and measurements are made by other people.
She knew this because Catherine de Montclair had measured her. Not with a tape measure or a ruler but with her eyes—the quick, appraising sweep of a woman who had been taught from childhood to assess everything in rooms: the quality of the chandeliers, the provenance of the silver, the social value of the guests. And on the scale that Catherine used to measure human beings, Z had come up short....
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