United States or Sri Lanka ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
The heavy ends of a big black shawl thrown over her head hung massively in biblical folds. With a faint cry of dismay Doña Rita stopped just within my room. The two women faced each other for a few moments silently. Therese spoke first. There was no austerity in her tone. Her voice was as usual, pertinacious, unfeeling, with a slight plaint in it; terrible in its unchanged purpose.
Therese had seated herself behind the counter from the first day, and she did not move from that place. Madame Raquin was astonished at this depressed attitude. She had thought that the young woman would try to adorn her habitation. That she would place flowers at the windows, and ask for new papers, curtains and carpets.
Arabella had once told her of this lady's story, and she felt that the time in Bordeaux when the beautiful Thérèse wore the red cap of Liberty and hung upon the arm of one who had swum in the blood of the aristocrats, must have been an experience worth having in life. Her study of Madame Tallien went no further; it was the lurid revolutionary part in her career that she liked. Mr.
Yes, I liked sister Thérèse very much. Mamma was a Huguenot, you know." "You see, I really do not know anything about her, and have known very little about your father since he was a small boy." "A small boy! How queer that seems," and she gave a tender, rippling laugh. "Then you can tell me about him.
The decision Camille had come to, upset her way of living, and, in despair, she sought to arrange another existence for herself and the married couple. Little by little, she recovered calm. She reflected that the young people might have children, and that her small fortune would not then suffice. It was necessary to earn money, to go into business again, to find lucrative occupation for Therese.
The thought that Camille was there, in a corner, watching him, present on his wedding night, examining Therese and himself, ended by driving him mad with terror and despair. One circumstance, which would have brought a smile to the lips of anyone else, made him completely lose his head. As he stood before the fire, he heard a sort of scratching sound.
He came slowly forward, his smouldering eyes scanning his son's face. "You are hard," he said grimly. "But I recognize the hardness. It derives from the blood you bear." "Spare me that," said Andre-Louis. The Marquis inclined his head. "I will not mention it again. But I desire that you should at least understand me, and you too, Therese. You accuse me, sir, of murdering your dearest friend.
"Here is no pain," whispered Therese. "She breathes quietly. There is no pain. Satisfy yourself." She took the light from his hand, and saw him stoop above his sleeping child, extending his hands over her, as if in the act of prayer or blessing. "No pain, thank God!" he repeated, as they returned to the salon, where they found Father Laxabon.
Therese and Laurent recognised the cold, damp smell of the drowned man in the warm air they were breathing. They said to themselves that a corpse was there, close to them, and they examined one another without daring to move. Then all the terrible story of their crime was unfolded in their memory.
I never saw them, for we did not take it about with us everywhere; but I brought it with me from Paris, and I suppose Aunt Thérèse put it away."
Word Of The Day