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Updated: May 24, 2025
She tossed aside her riding-hat and pushed back the hair from her warm forehead. "Your Highness must not drink of the water here," said Odo, releasing her hand. She gave him a quick derisive glance. "Ah, true," she cried; "this is the house to which that abandoned wretch used to lure poor Cerveno." She drew back to look at the lodge. "Were you ever in it?" she asked curiously.
Now do but look at him as he reins up that showy grey stallion and gazes back at us. Mark his riding-hat tilted over his eye, his open bosom, his whip dangling from his button-hole, his hand on his hip, and as many oaths in his mouth as there are ribbons to his doublet. Above all, mark the air with which he looks down upon the peasants beside him.
Think over your wants." She had caught up her reins, but paused, looking at him. He averted his head quickly. "I will tell you to-morrow. Good evening." As she went homeward a shadow fell upon her face a shadow darker than that cast by the black plume in her riding-hat and once or twice her lips writhed from their ordinary curves of beauty.
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