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Updated: May 11, 2025
He might like the cut of her fins and she might fancy the color of his wings. They could sympathize together, couldn't they, if nothing else?" Aurora's eyebrows had with this tried to signify her entire capacity to take care of herself and her own business. But not wishing to rouse any further uneasiness in her friend, she no more after that spoke frankly of Gerald whenever he came into her mind.
"Now the old barkie travels," exclaimed the exultant Ritson. "Unhook the gun-tackles, you sea-dogs, and rush the gun aft; we'll try a shot out through the stern-ports this time." At this moment the boom of another gun from the schooner was heard; and next moment the shot came flying through the Aurora's rigging, cutting the main-brace pennant, and passing through the head of the foresail.
She picked up her hat and put it on, but she was not clever with the pin, for she was used to having Settimia do everything for her which she had not learned to do for herself before she had come to Rome. "I can never manage it without Settimia," she said, as if excusing herself for her awkwardness, as she again submitted to Aurora's help.
The Contessa, who was a woman of the world, nodded quietly and smiled as if she had seen nothing, but she at once began to steer her daughter in a divergent direction. "You are looking very ill," she said, turning her head back as she moved away. "Come and see us." "Where?" asked Marcello, making half a step to follow, and looking at the back of Aurora's head and at the pretty hat she wore.
In the streets, though they were by no means asleep, but, contrariwise, busy with the traffic of men and pack-mules, there was a shrewd bite as of night air; looking up we could perceive how faint the blue of the sky was, and the cloud-flaw how rosy yet with the flush of Aurora's beauty-sleep.
The little third seat had been let down for him; his knees were snugly wedged in between those of the ladies. Aurora was beaming over at him; Estelle was beaming, too. Aurora's smile was a blandishment; Estelle's was a light. The horses were flying toward the Lungarno. And he gave up; he helplessly gave up trying to find an excuse for asking to be set down again and allowed to go his lonely way.
Nothing was said at first of the cause for Aurora's air of repressed excitement, as she knit on a pink and white baby-jacket, or the cloudy annoyance puckering Estelle's brow as she stitched on her silk tapestry.
Both vessels fired at precisely the same moment; the schooner's shot passing in through the Aurora's bulwarks close to the gun, and making the splinters fly in all directions, one of the latter grazing Captain Leicester's cheek, and drawing blood; but, very fortunately, beyond this no further damage was done.
Charlie, whose manly vanity his good fortune had, not unnaturally, reinforced; Charlie, who if he were loved much must always love less than the other, felt a certain stimulation in exhibitions of jealousy with regard to himself. He thought well of the results of saying, "I cannot come this evening, cara, I am dining at the Hawthorne's." So he accepted Aurora's invitation.
And, utterly oblivious of the fact that he was addressing Aurora's father, he went on with almost terrible incoherence: "Although you have conquered this country, sir, never shall you subdue in my breast the sentiments of liberty and generosity which make me an Englishman. I abhor you invader of the world trampler underfoot of the humanities enemy of mankind apostle of force!
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