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Have you pleased some of the men who visit here?" "I don't think so, cousin." "Do you love any of them?" "No." "Certain?" "Quite certain." "Look at me, Pierrette." Pierrette looked at Sylvie. "A man called to you this morning in the square." Pierrette lowered her eyes. "You went to your window, you opened it, and you spoke to him." "No cousin, I went to look out and I saw a peasant."
"I was helped a bit," Bruno began, with a merry little laugh at her surprise. "We've been at it all the afternoon I thought oo'd like " and here the poor little fellow's lip began to quiver, and all in a moment he burst out crying, and running up to Sylvie he flung his arms passionately round her neck, and hid his face on her shoulder.
M. Goriot will not stay much longer in your house, nor shall I " "Yes, he will go out feet foremost, poor old gentleman," she said, counting the francs with a half-facetious, half-lugubrious expression. "Let us get this over," said Rastignac. "Sylvie, look out some sheets, and go upstairs to help the gentlemen." "You won't forget Sylvie," said Mme.
"We must go back into the wood, now," Sylvie said, as soon as we were out of hearing. "We ca'n't stay this size any longer." "Then you will be quite tiny Fairies again, next time we meet?" "Yes," said Sylvie: "but we'll be children again some day if you'll let us. Bruno's very anxious to see Lady Muriel again." "She are welly nice," said Bruno.
All she knew about the winter plan was that Miss Ledwith was a friend of Miss Kirkbright's, had a large, old-fashioned house, and scarcely any household, and would be glad to have herself and Sylvie take rooms with her for several months. She had a vague idea that Miss Ledwith might be somewhat restricted in her means, and that to receive lodgers in a friendly way would be an "object" to her.
The men, apparently laying aside all suspicion, were entertaining; their adventurous lives had bristled with exciting, moving, humorous experience. It was Sylvie herself, prompted by curiosity, believing as she did that the monster the sheriff had described bore no possible resemblance to the man she loved, who asked suddenly: "Do tell us about the man you're hunting for now this Rutherford?
It's cock-a-doodle-do, I've cotched a husband, cock-a-doodle-doo, wi' 'em. I've no patience wi' such like; I beg, Sylvie, thou'lt not get too thick wi' Molly. She's not pretty behaved, making such an ado about men-kind, as if they were two-headed calves to be run after. 'But Molly's a good-hearted lass, mother.
Do you not realise that as the betrothed wife of Aubrey Leigh I am past the Church counsel or command?" Gherardi still smiled. "Past Church counsel or command?" he murmured with an indulgent air, as though he were talking to a very small child. "Pardon me if I am at a loss to understand " "Oh, you understand very well!" said Sylvie.
There were no more calls; no more pleasant spending of occasional days at the Sherrett Place; no more ridings round and droppings in of Rodney at the village. All that seemed suddenly broken up and done with, almost hopelessly. Sylvie could not see how it was ever to begin again. Next year Rodney was to graduate, and his father was to take him abroad.
"Look well at it, my darling," the old man was saying, "and tell me how you like it." "'It's just lovely," cried Sylvie, delightedly. "Bruno, come and look!" And she held up, so that he might see the light through it, a heart-shaped Locket, apparently cut out of a single jewel, of a rich blue colour, with a slender gold chain attached to it.
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