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The next day Gabrielle accosted Gouffe as he was going to his dejeuner and, after some little conversation agreed to meet him at eight o'clock that evening. The afternoon was spent in preparing for the bailiff's reception in the Rue Tronson-Ducoudray. A lounge-chair was so arranged that it stood with its back to the alcove, within which the pulley and rope had been fixed by Eyraud.
Some force unseen, uncomprehended, is roughly thrusting me out of my flat. I leap up hurriedly, dress, and cautiously, that my family may not notice, slip out into the street. Where am I to go? The answer to that question has long been ready in my brain. To Katya. As a rule she is lying on the sofa or in a lounge-chair reading. Seeing me, she raises her head languidly, sits up, and shakes hands.
Seton Pasha, who occupied the lounge-chair upon the broad arm of which his wife was seated, looked up, smiling into the suddenly flushed face. They were but newly returned from their honeymoon, and had just taken possession of their home, for Seton was now stationed in Cairo. He flicked a cone of ash from his cheroot.
The war had stopped. The King of England was in Paris, and the President of the United States was hourly expected. Humbler guests poured each night from the termini into the overflowing city, and sought anxiously for some bed, lounge-chair, or pillowed corner, in which to rest until the morning.
With such an exclamation did I hail it, when, for the first time, I sat at my window and gazed out upon a Louisiana landscape. The windows, as in all Creole houses, reached down to the floor; and seated in my lounge-chair, with the sashes wide open, with the beautiful French curtains thrown back, I commanded an extended view of the country. A gorgeous picture it presented.
She had helped Mrs. Shlessinger in the nursing of the convalescent saint. He spent his day, as the manager described it to me, upon a lounge-chair on the veranda, with an attendant lady upon either side of him. He was preparing a map of the Holy Land, with special reference to the kingdom of the Midianites, upon which he was writing a monograph.
They had both been reading, after a hard day's work. Meg had not turned many pages of her book; her thoughts had wandered. As she felt her brother's eyes upon hers, she raised her eyelids and looked at him steadily as she said: "Freddy, I'm going to see Hadassah Ireton." Freddy sat bolt upright. He, too, had been lying stretched out on a lounge-chair. "Going to see Mrs. Ireton?
It opened on to a curtain, about which there still clung a faint suggestion of carbolic. "Eldred?" she said softly. And the voice she had last heard through the hiss of rain, and the crash of broken branches, answered: "Come in." She pushed aside the curtain, and stood so, paralysed by a nervousness altogether new to her. He lay on a Madeira lounge-chair, with pillows at his back.
Beale," she said. "Mr. Kitson has told me that I owe my rescue to you." "Did he?" he asked awkwardly, and wondered what else Kitson had told her. "I am trying to be very sensible, and I want you to help me, because you are the most sensible man I know." She went back to the lounge-chair where she had been sitting, and pointed to another.
Almost involuntarily, in the heaviness of her fatigue, she had surrendered to the hospitable arms of a huge lounge-chair. Her weary glance ranged the luxuriously appointed studio and returned to Lanyard's face; and while he waited he fancied something moving in those wistful eyes, so deeply shadowed with distress, perplexity, and fatigue.
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