Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 6, 2025
"The brave old island!" he was murmuring. "I should be really disturbed if I thought death would find me away from it. Foolish fancy, but it's strong in me." Irene was taciturn, and unlike herself. The approach to port enabled her to avoid gossips, but one person, Helen Borisoff, guessed what had happened; Irene's grave countenance and Arnold Jacks' meditative smile partly instructed her.
Borisoff lighted a second cigarette, her face touched with a roguish smile. She studied Otway's profile for a moment; became grave; fell into a mood of abstraction, which shadowed her features with weariness and melancholy. Turning suddenly to put a question, Piers saw the change in her look, and was so surprised that he forgot what he was going to say.
"I shall try to," he answered softly. "Your Russian must be very idiomatic. I found it hard in places." Overcome with delight, he looked at her and bent towards her. "Mrs. Borisoff told me you had learnt. I know what that means learning Russian in England, out of books. I began to do it at Ewell do you remember?" "Yes, I remember very well. Have you written anything besides these two articles?"
During these days there came a definite invitation from Mrs. Borisoff, who was staying in Hampshire, at the house of her widowed mother, and Irene gladly accepted it. She wished to see more of Helen Borisoff, whose friendship, she felt, might have significance for her at this juncture of life.
She mentioned her London hotel, and an approximate date when she might be heard of there. "Get the Castle if you possibly can," were her words as they parted. "I have set my heart on the Castle." "So have I," said Piers, avoiding her look. And Mrs. Borisoff laughed. Once in the two years' interval he had paid a short visit to England.
It was the kind of letter that few people are so fortunate as to receive nowadays, covering three sheets with gaiety and good-nature, with glimpses of interesting social life and many an amusing detail. Mrs. Borisoff was establishing herself for the winter, which promised all sorts of good things yonder on the Seine.
He was to drive before him all the stragglers, and was to try to hold Borisoff for a few hours before going to Studianka and crossing the bridges. Those were the Emperor's orders, the execution of which in detail was frustrated by events.
The three regiments crossed the ford without loss and the General , going across country and avoiding some of Wittgenstein's troops who were moving towards Borisoff, eventually rejoined Oudinot on the 23rd of November at a place called Natscha.
Borisoff had left the room whilst he was speaking, and so silently that for a moment he was not aware of her withdrawal. Alone with Irene, for the first time since he had known her; even at Ewell, long ago, they had never been together without companionship. There fell a silence.
Borisoff glanced from him to Irene, who also was smiling, but looked half vexed. "How can it be good, for health or anything else?" Miss Derwent asked suddenly, turning to the speaker. "Oh, we couldn't do without fighting. It's in human nature." "In uncivilised human nature, yes."
Word Of The Day
Others Looking