United States or Morocco ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
If your aunt ! I can't bear the affair talked of." "But, darling," said Fleur, softly, "it's so long ago." "Long ago or not, I " Fleur stood stroking his arm. "I've tried to forget," he said suddenly; "I don't wish to be reminded." And then, as if venting some long and secret irritation, he added: "In these days people don't understand. Grand passion, indeed! No one knows what it is."
A little sound beside her made her turn her eyes; her father was again tearing the paper in his hands. Fleur saw it was a cheque. "I shan't sell him my Gauguin," he said. "I don't know what your aunt and Imogen see in him." "Or Mother." "Your mother!" said Soames. 'Poor Father! she thought. 'He never looks happy not really happy.
I only don't want to lose you, Jon." "You can't lose me so long as you want me." "Oh, yes, I can." Jon put his hands on her shoulders. "Fleur, do you know anything you haven't told me?" It was the point-blank question she had dreaded. She looked straight at him, and answered: "No." She had burnt her boats; but what did it matter, if she got him? He would forgive her.
I could not sustain the picture of confinement which my fancy had drawn. I started up from my chair, and calling La Fleur: I bid him bespeak me a remise, and have it ready at the door of the hotel by nine in the morning. I'll go directly, said I, myself to Monsieur le Duc de Choiseul.
Shall I, to my shame, suffer you, a woman, to die for me, who am a man, before the eyes of this great assembly? And so saying, Fleur extended his neck instead for the death-blow, but Blanchefleur in turn pulled him back by his clothes and ran in before him, holding out her neck.
"Your father didn't wish you to hear," she said, with all the aplomb she could muster. "These things will happen. I've often told him he ought to let you know." "Oh!" said Fleur, and that was all, but it made Winifred pat her shoulder a firm little shoulder, nice and white!
As for the accessories, the most usual, almost indispensable, is the pot of lilies, the symbolical Fleur de Marie, which I have already explained at length.
"Oh!" cried Fleur, "help me, Father; you can help me, you know." Soames made a startled movement of negation. "I?" he said bitterly. "Help? I am the impediment the just cause and impediment isn't that the jargon? You have my blood in your veins." He rose. "Well, the fat's in the fire. If you persist in your wilfulness you'll have yourself to blame. Come! Don't be foolish, my child my only child!"
There were white clouds, like the feathers of ducks gilded by the sunlight. Memory of the day when Fleur was born, and he had waited in such agony with her life and her mother's balanced in his hands, came to him sharply. He had saved her then, to be the flower of his life. And now! Was she going to give him trouble pain give him trouble? He did not like the look of things!
He was no doubt a rackety, irresponsible young fellow according to old standards, yet somehow likeable, with his extraordinarily cheerful way of blurting out his opinions. "Come in," he said; "have you had tea?" Mont came in. "I thought Fleur would have been back, sir; but I'm glad she isn't. The fact is, I I'm fearfully gone on her; so fearfully gone that I thought you'd better know.
Word Of The Day