Yet the
bird, if he knew, doubtless rejoiced in his fate! Shirley's hand, thrice
laid down, and there you have the length of that velvet cap, plume and
all. Her profile, as she half turned away, must awaken regret that
Reynolds and Gainsborough paint no more; yet let us be practical:
Sargent, in this particular, could not serve us ill.
Her annoyance at finding herself lingering to listen to him was marked in
an almost imperceptible gathering of her brows. It was all the matter of
an instant. His heart beat fast in his joy at the sight of her, and the
tongue that years of practice had skilled in reserve and evasion was
possessed by a reckless spirit.
She nodded carelessly, but said nothing, waiting for him to go on.
"But when I wait for people they always come--even in a strange pergola!"
he added daringly. "Now, in Geneva, not long ago--"
He lost the profile and gained her face as he liked it best, though her
head was lifted a little high in resentment against her own yielding
curiosity. He was speaking rapidly, and the slight hint of some other
tongue than his usually fluent English arrested her ear now, as it had at
other times.
Pages:
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195