Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 7, 2025
Rather ashamed, Jon murmured, "I don't smoke, you know," and saw the tobacconist's lips twisted, as if uncertain whether to say "Good God!" or "Now's your chance, sir!" "That's right," said Val; "keep off it while you can. You'll want it when you take a knock. This is really the same tobacco, then?" "Identical, sir; a little dearer, that's all.
In the Rue de la Pourpointicre a man in passing slipped a note into his hand. It was a brief scrawl: "Monsieur, where are ye going? It is done. I have seen him dead. If you enter the Louvre you will not escape any more than he did." Nearing St. Innocent, the warning was repeated, this time by a gentleman named du Jon, who stopped to mutter: "Monsieur le Duc, our evil is without remedy.
"A little, but more subtle, and not quite so solid." "I know, from Grandfather's portrait; who painted that?" "One of June's 'lame ducks. But it's quite good." Jon slipped his hand through his Mother's arm. "Tell me about the family quarrel, Mum." He felt her arm quivering. "No, dear; that's for your father some day, if he thinks fit." "Then it WAS serious," said Jon, with a catch in his breath.
As the long struggle of discretion between them drew to its close, he wondered more and more whether she could see his eagerness to get back to that which she had brought him away from. Condemned by Spanish Providence to spend a day in Madrid between their trains, it was but natural to go again to the Prado. Jon was elaborately casual this time before his Goya girl.
Reaching the parsonage of Herr Jon on the following day, he first went to the barn and helped the laborers to thresh, at the same time asking them what side their master took. Learning that he was no friend of the Danes, he made himself known to him and was graciously received, staying with him for three days. But this place soon became unsafe.
"You may think this a matter I can smooth over and arrange for you. You're mistaken. I'm helpless." Fleur did not speak. "Quite apart from my own feelings," went on Soames with more resolution, "those two are not amenable to anything I can say. They they hate me, as people always hate those whom they have injured." "But he Jon " "He's their flesh and blood, her only child.
She said very quietly: "Fleur is awfully attractive, Jon, but you know Val and I don't really like her very much." "Why?" "We think she's got rather a 'having' nature." "'Having? I don't know what you mean. She she " he pushed his dessert plate away, got up, and went to the window. Holly, too, got up, and put her arm round his waist. "Don't be angry, Jon dear.
She turned and said: "Sit down, Jon; let's talk." She sat down on the window-seat, Jon on his bed. She had her profile turned to him, and the beauty and grace of her figure, the delicate line of the brow, the nose, the neck, the strange and as it were remote refinement of her, moved him. His mother never belonged to her surroundings. She came into them from somewhere as it were!
When Jon rushed away with the letter in his hand, he ran along the terrace and round the corner of the house, in fear and confusion. Leaning against the creepered wall he tore open the letter. It was long very long! This added to his fear, and he began reading. When he came to the words: "It was Fleur's father that she married," everything seemed to spin before him.
The next three days were passed in semi-darkness, and a dulled, aching indifference to all except the feel of ice on his forehead and his mother's smile. She never moved from his room, never relaxed her noiseless vigilance, which seemed to Jon angelic. But there were moments when he was extremely sorry for himself, and wished terribly that Fleur could see him.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking