Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 21, 2025
As Steavens rose the lawyer said dryly: "You go on it'll be a good experience for you, doubtless; as for me, I'm not equal to that crowd tonight; I've had twenty years of them." As Steavens closed the door after him be glanced back at the lawyer, sitting by the coffin in the dim light, with his chin resting on his hand.
"Yes, he was an oyster, since you put it so," rejoined Steavens. "Although he could be very fond of people, he always gave one the impression of being detached. He disliked violent emotion; he was reflective, and rather distrustful of himself except, of course, as regarded his work. He was surefooted enough there.
Henry Steavens stared about him with the sickening conviction that there had been a mistake, and that he had somehow arrived at the wrong destination. He looked at the clover-green Brussels, the fat plush upholstery, among the hand-painted china placques and panels and vases, for some mark of identification, for something that might once conceivably have belonged to Harvey Merrick.
"I'm not married, Mrs. Steavens," she says to me very quiet and natural-like, "and I ought to be." "Oh, my child," says I, "what's happened to you? Don't be afraid to tell me!" 'She sat down on the drawside, out of sight of the house. "He's run away from me," she said. "I don't know if he ever meant to marry me." "You mean he's thrown up his job and quit the country?" says I.
The servant stole up to the coffin, bent over it for a moment, and then slipped away to the kitchen, leaving Steavens, the lawyer, and the father to themselves. The old man stood trembling and looking down at his dead son's face. The sculptor's splendid head seemed even more noble in its rigid stillness than in life.
The long nose was distended and knobbed at the end, and there were deep lines on either side of it; her heavy, black brows almost met across her forehead; her teeth were large and square and set far apart teeth that could tear. She filled the room; the men were obliterated, seemed tossed about like twigs in an angry water, and even Steavens felt himself being drawn into the whirlpool.
Shimerda was going about her work, talking and scolding to herself. She did n’t so much as raise her eyes. Tony wiped her hand on her apron and held it out to me, looking at me steady but mournful. When I took her in my arms she drew away. ‘Don’t, Mrs. Steavens,’ she says, ‘you’ll make me cry, and I don’t want to.’ “I whispered and asked her to come out of doors with me.
'I thought you'd come, Jim. I heard you were at Mrs. Steavens's last night. I've been looking for you all day. She was thinner than I had ever seen her, and looked as Mrs. Steavens said, 'worked down, but there was a new kind of strength in the gravity of her face, and her colour still gave her that look of deep-seated health and ardour. Still?
He and grandmother were getting old for the heavy work of a farm, and as I was now thirteen they thought I ought to be going to school. Accordingly our homestead was rented to “that good woman, the Widow Steavens,” and her bachelor brother, and we bought Preacher White’s house, at the north end of Black Hawk.
Steavens and I went upstairs to the old sitting-room, while her grave, silent brother remained in the basement to read his farm papers. All the windows were open. The white summer moon was shining outside, the windmill was pumping lazily in the light breeze. My hostess put the lamp on a stand in the corner, and turned it low because of the heat.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking