Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 14, 2025
"Ah, I'm still in the dark," Verrian politely regretted, but not with a tacit wish to wring Miss Macroyd's neck, which he would not have known how to account for. "Well, she says that Mrs. Westangle has a professional assistant who's doing the whole job for her, and that she came down on the same train with herself and you."
But I thought we lived under another dispensation." "Will she try to get more of the kind of thing she was doing for Mrs. Westangle at once? Or has she some people?" "No; only friends, as I understand." "Where is she from? Up country?" "No, she's from the South." "I don't like Southerners!" "I know you don't, mother.
He appealed to Verrian and made a feint of pushing his chair back. "May we use water-soaked snowballs, or must they all be soft and harmless?" he asked of Mrs. Westangle, who was now the centre of a storm of applause and question from the whole table. She kept her head and referred again to her paper.
"What are you two laughing so about?" the voice of Mrs. Westangle twittered at Verrian's elbow, and, looking down, he found her almost touching it. She had a very long, narrow neck, and, since it was long and narrow, she had the good sense not to palliate the fact or try to dress the effect of it out of sight.
"No, thank you, I believe not. But perhaps you are doing this? One can't suppose Mrs. Westangle imagined it." "No, I can't plead guilty. But why isn't it predicable of Mrs. Westangle?" "You mustn't ask too much of me, Mr. Verrian. Somehow, I won't say how, it's been imagined for her. She's heard of its being done somewhere. It can't be supposed she's read of it, anywhere." "No, I dare say not."
"The bush where the milk in the cocoanut grows. You don't pretend that you believe Mrs. Westangle has been getting up all these fairy stunts?" Verrian returned to his cigar, from which the ashen wraith dropped into his lap. "I guess you'll have to be a little clearer."
It appeared that in one point he did her injustice, for when he went up to dress for dinner after the long stroll he took towards night he found a note under his door, by which he must infer that Mrs. Westangle had not kept the real facts of her triumph from the mistress of the revels. "DEAR MR. VERRIAN, I am not likely to see you, but I must thank you. "P. S. Don't try to answer, please."
"I think you ought to have done it yourself, Miss Shirley," Verrian said, feeling like the worm that turns. He added, less resentfully, "We ought both to have taken it." "No, Mrs. Westangle might have felt, very properly, that it was presumptuous in me, whether I came alone in it or with you. Now we shall arrive together in this thing, and she will be mortified for you and vexed with me.
"Oh, do make use of me, Miss Shirley!" "That you could give me some hints about the setting, with your knowledge of the stage " She stopped, having rushed forward to that point, while he continued to look steadily at her without answering her. She faced him courageously, but not convincingly. "Did you think that I was an actor?" he asked, finally. "Mrs. Westangle seemed to think you were."
At breakfast, where the guests were reasonably punctual, they were all able to observe, in the rapid succession in which they descended from their rooms, that it had stopped snowing and the sun was shining brilliantly. "There isn't enough for sleighing," Mrs. Westangle proclaimed from the head of the table in her high twitter, "and there isn't any coasting here in this flat country for miles."
Word Of The Day
Others Looking