United States or Cameroon ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Tiralla," plain and simple, but always as "the beautiful Mrs. Tiralla." When he drove with her through Gradewitz he on the box, she on the seat behind, in her veil and feather boa everybody stared. And even in Gnesen the officers dining at the hotel used to rush to the window and crane their necks in order to see the beautiful Mrs. Tiralla drive past. Then Mr.
A monument should be erected to his memory, as beautiful a cross as could be ordered in Gradewitz, or even in Gnesen. If only he would depart, it only he would depart and leave her in peace. The woman's feelings towards her husband became almost tender. They should taste very, very good. As mother and daughter left the Przykop they saw Mr. Tiralla standing at the garden gate looking out for them.
The only coloured thing about her was her smooth, silky dark hair, with the rosebuds in it, and the little bouquet at her bosom. She was the only one who was wearing a low-necked dress. Such a thing had never been the fashion in Gradewitz, where it was only customary to expose the throat and shoulder-blades.
Even if his hair were bristly and already grey, and his eyes rather watery, he was still a man for all that. And he had money oh, such a lot. The servant's heart beat more rapidly when she thought of it. All the shops in Gradewitz could be bought up with it, and those in Gnesen as well, and who knows? perhaps even those in Posen.
She did not attend school at present, not being strong enough to walk all the way from Starydwór to Starawieś. Mr. and Mrs. Tiralla were preparing to go to the Gradewitz ball in spite of the snow and the bad roads. They hoped they would be able to get through all right. Mr.
Tiralla indulged in too much drink now and then on special occasions such as the Sokol's entertainment, or lately the Gradewitz ball who wouldn't have done that? But as a rule Mr. Tiralla was what you might call a sober man. The fact was that he could stand a great deal. But this evening he had drunk nothing but gin. He had felt so sad, oh, so sad; he didn't know himself why he had felt so sad.
Little Jadwiga, the rich mill-owner's daughter, who was wearing a brand-new pale blue cashmere frock, cut square in front, which left her neck bare as far as the freckles went, did not meet with as much success as could be expected from her dress, which the Gradewitz dressmaker had declared to be her masterpiece. Tiralla. It was a bitter blow.
He wrote a most beautiful hand, it looked like print. How the other people in this neighbourhood did scrawl! The Gradewitz ball would cost him a lot of money, and he had hardly any. But what did that matter? He would go there, even if he had to borrow from the Jew.
If she saw me in it in Gradewitz, or if your acquaintances in the town saw me, wouldn't they say, 'How well red suits Mrs. Tiralla. What a pretty wife Anton Tiralla has'!" He smirked. "But what good would it be to me?" she continued, and her voice sank and became quite feeble. "The rats would devour it." "Drat the rats! Leave them alone!"
"Oh, I'll come," he answered coldly, and was about to turn away. But Mr. Tiralla did not let him off so easily. "We're driving to Gradewitz, will you come with us? We're going to fetch my son from the station; he's coming home. He's bringing somebody with him, a nice young fellow. Get up, little Böhnke, get up. This'll be jolly." But the schoolmaster refused with thanks.
Word Of The Day