United States or Western Sahara ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"A leetle," admitted Uncle William. Sergia's face relaxed. She moved away for a minute. The Frenchman nodded. "We have doubtless met; but one forgets " He lifted his eyeglasses and surveyed Uncle William's round, good face. "It doesn't seem as if I could have forgotten yours," he said thoughtfully. "And yet I don't place it." Sergia had returned. "He has been to St. Petersburg," she suggested.
I wa'n't plumb sure whether it was the eagle he was doin' or the dep'hs, and it mixed me up some. I didn't jest know whether to soar up aloft or dive considabul deep. It kep' me kind o' teeterin' betwixt and between " He looked at her appealingly, yet with a little twinkle somewhere below. "I see." Sergia's face was dancing. "The names do help." "That's it," said Uncle William, gallantly.
"The' 's suthin' kind o' familiar about your face " he began. Sergia's hand was again on his arm. He patted it lightly. "Don't you worry a mite, Sergia. I ain't goin' to say anything rash. But it does seem to me as if I've seen Mr. Curie's face somewheres or other. 'T ain't a face you're liable to forget." The Frenchman acknowledged the compliment. "It is possible we have met. You have traveled?"
Sergia's hand on his arm stayed him. He remained open-mouthed, staring at his blunder. But the Frenchman had not perceived it. He accepted the correction with a cordial nod. "Of course infinite patience. And then a thing like that!" he lifted his hand toward it slowly. It was a kind of courteous salute the obeisance due to royalty. Uncle William watched it a little grudgingly.
Uncle William took the thin hand in his hearty one. "I am glad to meet you," he responded. "Sergia's been tellin' me about you. She said you liked the picter over yonder." Uncle William's thumb described the arc of a circle. The Frenchman's eye followed it. "I do," he said, cordially. "Don't you?" "Well, it's middlin' good." Uncle William spoke craftily. They were moving toward it.
"They're putty good rocks," he said "without paint." The Frenchman faced him. "Don't I know?" He checked himself. "I've not mentioned it to you, but I was born and brought up on those rocks." "You was!" Uncle William confronted him. The stranger nodded, smiling affably. His long nose was reminiscent. "I've played there many a time." Sergia's face watched him hopefully.
Word Of The Day