United States or Moldova ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
He was smiling still, and the boyish look lingered on his face, making him appear an absolutely different creature from the grave, formidable hermit to whom she was accustomed. Margot's eyes danced, and she answered as naturally as if she had been speaking to Ron himself.
Ronald's handsome, clear-cut face stood out like a cameo among them, while Margot's fluffy net blouse looked a garment of superfine smartness. There was no opportunity of talking to either of the brothers Elgood, separated as they were by the length of the table. The clergyman, Mr Moffat, remarked that it had been a fine day, an ex- ceptionally fine day!
It was, indeed, Margot's first grief; and the fact that her late comrade could leave her so coolly, without even mentioning his plan, hurt her very deeply.
The accent of bewilderment was unmistakably genuine, and Margot hastened to explain still further. "The new number of the Loadstar with Ron's poem in it!" "Ron's poem!" The note of bewilderment was accentuated to one of positive incredulity. "A poem by your brother in the Loadstar! I did not know that he wrote at all." Now it was Margot's turn to stare and frown. "You didn't know!
She rushed out upon the landing in time to see the tailor stumble on the stairs and fall head forwards to the bottom, at the feet of Margot Patry. Rosalie paid no heed to the fallen man. "Oil! flour! Quick!" she cried. "Quick! Quick!" She stepped over the body of the tailor, snatched at Margot's arm, and dragged her into the kitchen. "Quick-oil and flour!"
All the bitterness with which he had descended those steps, banished in disgrace, was keenly remembered. "Can I, shall I, dare I go up and ring that bell?" A vision floated before him. Margot's earnest face and tear-dimmed eyes. Her lips speaking: "If I had father or mother anywhere nothing should ever make me leave them. I would bear everything but I would be true to them."
She was bubbling with joy. "Is Maman comfortable this morning?" she was chattering. "Will she be in the garden? Where is the garden? I've looked and I can't see it or is she in her bed yet? And is it up-stairs?" Margot's hands trembled.
As for the children, said the letter, she must either bring or leave them, as seemed best to her at the time; and after long and earnest debate we resolved that she should go alone, and that you should be left to good Margot's tender care. I myself escorted our gentle lady to Bordeaux, and there it was easy to find safe and commodious transport for her across the sea.
Harris must have had charge of her features. The attendants in Margot's had charge of her complexion and hair those were the things in which they specialized. "Don't you see it all now? She could retire a few days into the dope joint next door and she would emerge literally a new woman ready to face us, even with Bertillon's portrait parle against her."
I haven't come across too many women like that in my life. It would be an honour to know her, to help her, if that were possible." He sighed, and stretching out his hand laid the letter on Margot's knee. "You are right, Miss Bright Eyes, love is a wonderful thing!"
Word Of The Day