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His old feet stumbled over each other as he fled till he came to the gates of the Temple of the Hathor, and knocked upon the gates. "What wouldst thou, old crone?" asked the priest who sat in the gates. "I would be led to the presence of the Hathor," he answered. "No woman hath passed up to look upon the Hathor," said the priest. "That women do not seek."
But you see, my land doesn't touch either Till or Tweed, so I haven't cared to interfere. But I'm sure that it is so, and it wouldn't surprise me if both these men, Crone and Phillips, met their deaths at the hands of the gang I'm thinking of. It's a notion that's worth following up, anyway, and I'll have a word with Murray about it when I'm in the town tomorrow."
"Eh, yes, if you can't stop 'um!" said the old crone, rubbing her skinny hands together as if this, at least, pleased her. "Has you tried, honey?" Egbert Crawford, Tombs lawyer, as has before been said, was much more in the habit of putting others under close cross-examination, than allowing himself to be subjected to the same sifting process.
The pineapples of Simojovel were to his liking; they are sugar-sweet, leaving no prickly sensation, and anyone can eat three whole ones at a sitting. After luncheon, we looked about for examples of lacquer-work. In one house, we found some small objects and wooden trays of indifferent workmanship. An old crone, badly affected with pinto, the mother of the young woman artist, showed us the wares.
Jorrocks for a sheet of paper. The crone shook her head and wagged her pendulous lip in derision. "Mister Girdlestone thought as you would be after that," she said. "There ain't no paper here, nor pens neither, nor ink neither." "What, none! Dear Mrs. Jorrocks, do have pity on me, and get me a sheet, however old and soiled. See, here is some silver!
Then it was arranged that the knight's first-born should be handed over to the care of an old crone who lived in a remote tower of the castle. One night this old woman awoke suddenly, and was terrified to see a female form dressed in a flowing white robe, bending over the cradle of the little boy, who slept near. The woman seemed to be tending the child, and after blessing him, she vanished.
Bewildered and apprehensive, I wondered whether, after all, the events of the night, the summons from Dicky Nahl, the walk in the darkness, the scene in the saloon, the encounter with the snake-eyed man, the riot, the rush up the dark stair, and the interview with the old crone, were not a fantastic vision from the land of dreams. I looked cautiously through the other rooms on the first floor.
Apparently this lady was in waiting, for in a minute she appeared before the throne, an old and withered woman with beady eyes. If you saw it, would you know his body again after he has come to middle age?" "Aye, O Inca." "How, Mother?" "Man who call yourself Kari, are you willing that this old crone should see your flesh?" asked Upanqui.
She was a slovenly, guzzling old crone, who drank caudle from morning till night, and demanded good living as a support during the performance of her trying duties; but these last she contrived to make wondrous light, knowing that there was none to reprove her. "A fine night I have had," she had grumbled when she brought back Sir Jeoffry's answer to her lady's message.
Through her diamond-paned window he saw the wrinkled, white-capped old creature spinning peacefully at the rustic chimney-corner, a pure cloistral crone. It seemed profane to connect such a figure with flirtation this was surely the very virgin of senility. What a fine picture she made too! Why had he never thought of painting her?
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