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I asked Sylvie, while Bruno was away behind the hedge, dressing for the first 'Bit. "I think so," Sylvie replied doubtfully. "There generally is a Moral, only he puts it in too soon." "And will he say all the Bits of Shakespeare?" "No, he'll only act them," said Sylvie. "He knows hardly any of the words. When I see what he's dressed like, I've to tell the Frogs what character it is.
Her mother's eye caught the look and the change, and knew what both meant as well as if Sylvia had spoken out. 'Thursday se'nnight, said she. 'I'll be rare and strong by then, and Sylvie shall go play hersen; she's been nurse-tending long enough. 'You're but weakly yet, said Philip shortly; he did not intend to say it, but the words seemed to come out in spite of himself.
'It's the gray you want, is it not, Sylvie? He used the name he had had the cousin's right to call her by since her childhood, without remembering her words on the subject not five minutes before; but she did, and was vexed. 'Please, miss, it is the scarlet duffle I want; don't let him take it away.
Florian Varillo is dead as I have told you; and for stating what I believe to be the truth regarding him I have been subjected to insult in your presence. I have known you for many years and I knew your father before you, I have no wish to either distress or offend you, do you understand? I am in your hands!" Sylvie looked him full in the face. "My husband will answer you, Monsignor," she said.
"Good-evening, mademoiselle and the rest of the company. I've brought you a cousin, and here she is; and a nice little girl too, upon my word. You have forty-seven francs to pay me, and sign my book." Mademoiselle Sylvie and her brother were dumb with pleasure and amazement. "Excuse me," said the conductor, "the coach is waiting.
I was afraid she would really make herself ill: still I thought it best to let her weep away the first sharp agony of grief: and, after a few minutes, the sobbing gradually ceased, and Sylvie rose to her feet, and looked calmly at me, though tears were still streaming down her cheeks.
The less she is moved herself, the greater is her fascination. Love clamours far more incessantly and passionately at a closed gate than an open one!" Sylvie was silent for a minute or two looking at him with something of doubt and disdain.
Sylvie might well enough do the same, or go to them for hints and helps in her window-gardening and little ingenuities of housekeeping. Mrs. Argenter deluded herself agreeably with the notion that the relations in each case were identical.
Besides, Mademoiselle Sylvie was not in favor of the match; in fact, she steadily opposed her brother's marriage, and sought, instead, to make the shrewd young woman their successor.
Hazel and Ada almost came to the conclusion that this was the perfection of travelling, and the supersedure of all literal and laborious sightseeing; and Sylvie Argenter ventured the Nipperism that "tea and coffee and spices might or might not be a little different right off the bush, but if shiploads were coming in to you all the time, you might combine things with as much comfort on the whole, perhaps, as you would have in sailing round for every separate pinch to Ceylon, and Java, and Canton."