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Malet, Lucas, 1852-1931

"Deadham Hard"

They really do, I believe, appreciate our little
social efforts."
"Who wouldn't give in to you Henrietta?" Damaris murmured.
Whereupon Mrs. Frayling delicately beamed on her; and, agreeable
unanimity of sentiment being thus established, conversation between the
two ladies for a while fell silent.
The little chestnut horses, meantime, encouraged with "Oh he-s" and "Oh
la-s" by their driver, trotted and climbed, climbed and trotted, until
the woodland lay below and the Signal de la Palu was reached. A wide
level space on a crest of the foot-hills--with flag staff bearing the
valorous tricolor, and rustic log-built restaurant offering
refreshment--opening upon the full splendour of the Maritime Alps.
Damaris stepped out of the carriage, and, patting the near horse on the
neck in passing, went forward across the sparse turf, starred with tiny
clear coloured flowers, to the edge of the platform.
The Provencal coachman, from his perch on the box-seat of the victoria,
his rough-caste crumpled countenance sun-baked to the solid ruddy brown
of the soil of his own vineyard, followed her movements with approving
glances.


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