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That of course should be a great assistance in knowing just how to approach the president of a big city bank and touch him for a cigar in a red-and-gold corset, while he is telling you to make yourself at home around the place until a job turns up. Allie Bangs, my chum, went on East with me. We had decided to rise side by side and to buy the same make of yachts. Of course we were sensible.
The street crowds, so vivacious, so good-humored, the vivid Florentine faces, enchanted her. More astonishing than storied buildings, or even imperishable art, were the figures that moved across the red-and-gold background of the city's history, figures like Dante, Lorenzo the Magnificent, and that great prior of San Marco whose "soul went out in fire."
More guns were coming into action, and the deep, blended and violent note seemed to roll up against the house until every log, solid as it was, trembled with the concussion. Afar over the forest the veil of smoke began to grow wider and thicker and to blot out the red-and-gold glory of the sunrise. Harley bent his head.
It contained a light-yellow carpet with pink flowers strewn over it, red-and-gold chairs, mirrors, a white marble mantelpiece, a gray-and-pink sofa with a pink cushion. Only the large writing-table, covered with manuscripts, letters, and photographs in frames, said something individual to the visitor. Hermione and Vere were among the photographs. Hermione sat down on the sofa.
Look at her, my dear Adrienne; what a pity!" "It is one of your charitable days, my dear Julia," answered Adrienne; "we are to pity the Indians, to pity this creature, and pray, whom else are we to pity?" "We will not pity that handsome Indian, in his red-and-gold turban," said the marquis, laughing, "for, if this goes on, the girl with the cherry colored ribbons will be giving him a kiss.
She sat, chin on her hand, on a wagon tongue in the encampment, looking out over the blue-gray desert to the red-and-gold glory of the sinking sun. Her mother came to her and placed in her lap the two letters, stood watching her. "One from each," said she sententiously, and turned away. The girl's face paled as she opened the one she had felt sure would find her again, somewhere, somehow.
Twenty women and girls, their lips going as rapidly as their knives, sat on fruit crates at long tables, slicing the red-and-gold balls apart, flicking out the stones, laying the halves to dry in wooden trays. A wagon had just arrived from the orchard. Olsen, the Swedish foreman, was heaving the boxes to his Portuguese assistant, who passed them on into the cutting shed.
But there were some packages in red-and-gold crape still on the tree, not large ones not magic plates, certainly. The Santa Claus unwrapped the three which he next took from the green branches. The presents were amulets. When unfolded they revealed bells and gems; the bells looked like gold; the gems like pure pearls, opals, and crystals. One was a necklace for Mrs.
Where were the others? Where was the red-and-gold banner of Richard? He caught a glimpse of the fluttering banner far to the rear and started to fall back. And then he saw another knight nearby, a huge man who swung his sparkling blade with power and force. On his steel helm gleamed a golden coronet! Richard!
There were drifts of fallen leaves all about, and I scuffled through them drearily, trying to feel gloomy, and old, and useless, and failing because of the tang in the air, and the red-and-gold wonder of the frost-kissed leaves, and the regular pump-pump of good red blood that was coursing through my body as per Norah's request.
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