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The truth is, this woman, Olympia, was a remarkably clever person, and knew how to manage her subjects a great deal better than some monarchs of England have done. But she was in a raging passion that night, and the excitement lent her force, which she exhausted in the part, while her child lay moaning on the dressing-room sofa.
When she had crossed the room to the sofa, two aged house-dogs setters with gentle eyes and gentle ears and gentle breeding had followed her and lain down at her feet; and one with a thrust of his nose pushed her skirts back from the toe of her slipper and rested his chin on it. "I will listen," she said, shrinking as yet from other speech. "I wish simply to listen.
He soon fell asleep, remaining for more than an hour motionless on the sofa, and though his breathing was disturbed, and his chest racked by his hollow cough, they were unable to wake him from his slumber. When he did awake, it was suddenly, with a nervous start that shook him from head to foot, making him bound from the sofa as though a spring had been touched.
She heard the French clock strike six sharp strokes, and unable to endure her hot bed any longer, she got up, slipped her arms into a dressing-gown, and went down to the drawing-room. It was filled with a grey twilight, and the street was grey-blue and silent save for the sparrows. Sitting on the edge of the sofa she remembered the convent.
They instinctively found their way to the sofa; mutual explanations followed; he measured her waist again; saw where he had made a mistake by his fingers lapping over on the first turn, and he vowed, by the beard of the prophet, he would change it for another, if she had not worn it and got it soiled. They are better now.
After lunch the children played for an hour, while she poor woman and happy mother lay on a long sofa in the summer-house, so placed that she could look out over the soft, ever-changing country of Touraine, a land that you learn to see afresh in all the thousand chance effects produced by daylight and sky and the time of year.
Come, you must take a rest." And drawing her hand within his arm, he led her to her boudoir and left her there, comfortably established upon a sofa. "A hat trimmed in that style would be becoming to Elsie," remarked Adelaide, continuing the conversation with Rose, and turning to look at her niece as she spoke. "Why, she's not here." "Papa took her away to make her lie down," said little Horace.
"It is a great trust, to be given such a little life to care for," said Olof, with a quiver in his voice, as they sat down on the sofa. "It seems too great a thing to be possible, somehow." "But it is," said Kyllikki. "And do you know what I think? That forgiveness is a greater thing than punishment and Life knows it!" He nodded, and pressed her hand.
In the meantime, Janet Duncan had seated herself on the sofa beside Cynthia, not having for an instant ceased to talk to her. Of what use to write a romance, when they unfolded themselves so beautifully in real life! Here was the country girl she had seen in Washington already in a fine way to become the princess, and in four months!
The worthy pair laid the unconscious girl on the sofa and went away. Rolla, on closing the door, put the key in her pocket. They began to play cards in the basement, a pursuit which agreed with them, and at the same time swallowed deep draughts of brandy. Toward six o'clock the vicomte entered. He threw a well-filled pocket-book on the table, and in a tone of command said: "The key!"
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