United States or Guinea-Bissau ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Again she left the room, put on her out-of-door things, and went to post the letter. By this time she began to feel the results of exertion and excitement; headache and tremulous failing of her strength obliged her to go to bed almost as soon as she returned. Mildred waited upon her with undiminished kindness. 'It's all right, Monica murmured, as her head sank on the pillow.
"Am I dreaming? or, is this all really so?" murmured the happy mother, pushing her son from her, yet clinging to him with an earnest grasp, and gazing fondly upon his face. "It is no dream, mother," returned Andrew, "but a glad reality. After a long, long absence I have come back." "Long long! Oh, it has been an age, my son! How could you? But hush, my chiding heart!
Fentolin," he admitted. "You are not one of the vulgar herd who love to consort with pleasure and happiness. You are one of those who understand the beauty of unhappiness in others," he added, with faint emphasis. Mr. Fentolin smiled. His face became almost like the face of one of those angels of the great Italian master. "How well you know me!" he murmured.
"Almost as if one were in the Cathedral at the ringing of the 'Sanctus'" she murmured under her breath, glancing about timidly at the plain furniture and bare walls.
"I meant it for a little surprise for you. I thought that it would be pleasant after your drive to have you call here and rest for a short time. You must present me to your friend." Arnold murmured a word of introduction. Ruth moved a little in her seat. She lifted herself with her left hand, leaning upon her stick. Fenella's expression changed as though by magic.
"You may rest," he said, smiling up at her "And so may I." She sat down beside him and he folded her in his arms. "How often we rest in this way, don't we!" he murmured "And so you think you have nothing to reproach me for! Well, I'm not so sure of that Innocent!" She looked at him questioningly. "Are you talking nonsense, my 'Sieur Amadis'? or are you serious?" she asked.
Perhaps he fancied that the wide-swaying stem to which he clung was the mast of a ship; that the tossing forest behind him was the heaving waves of the sea; and that the wind which moaned over the woods and murmured in the leaves, and now and then sent him a wide circuit in the air, as if he had been a blackbird on the tip- top of a spruce, was an ocean gale.
He could not get to sleep again, and was rather ashamed of his behavior. Then everything was arranged. "She can sleep in my bed," murmured he. "She'll have plenty of room." Nana looked at her mother and Lantier with her big, clear eyes and put on her stupid air, the same as on New Year's day when anyone made her a present of a box of chocolate candy.
He lifted her foot up tenderly and examined it with care. "My, my!" he murmured. "You poor little soldier. If I hadn't looked around that time I expect you'd been willing to walk all the way to Richmond on a foot that would make a whole regiment straggle. Just see where you've cut it right under the second little piggie.
The queen trembled, and stepped shudderingly back. "Holy father," she murmured, "have compassion with a sinful thought, which I suppressed quickly, and which I will never listen to again." "Why do you call it a sinful thought?" said the priest, with a diabolical smile. "All weapons are blessed and made holy by God, when employed against heretics.
Word Of The Day