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Updated: May 25, 2025
One could not imagine the old woman pinning a golden coronet on her hair when going to church; she would have stayed at home rather than show her face framed in anything but the usual black silk headshawl. Katrina had declared out and out she did not want to hear about Glory Goldie being an empress. On the whole it was perhaps best to humour her in this.
Once more cutting short that enthralling hunt for gold, Johnnie hurried back to the door and opened it and looked into the beady, bright black eyes of an exceedingly old lady. She had on a black dress which was evidently as old as herself, for in spots it was the same rusty color as the few faded hairs, streaked with gray, which showed from under her ancient headshawl.
In that fine land of Portugallia there were only princes and generals, to be sure only richly dressed people. Mad Ingeborg in her old cotton headshawl and her knit jacket would naturally be out of place there. But Heavenly Father! the engineer actually thought Engineer Boraeus looked just then as if he would have liked to give Jan a needed lesson, but he only shrugged his shoulders.
When the gate opened he felt a cramp at the heart. "It is she," he thought. His eyes dropped. He was as if paralyzed, and could not move. When he had recovered himself, he looked up; she was then standing on the steps outside the gate. She stood there a moment, quite still; she had pushed back her headshawl and, with eyes that were clear and open, she looked out across the landscape.
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