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"Hush, hush, Wölfchen. Now don't cry, for goodness' sake don't, it isn't worth it." Taking hold of a corner of her coarse blue working-apron she had just run away from the wash-tub she wiped his eyes and then his cheeks, and then she stroked the hair that grew so straight and thick on his round head.
Dolly did not look now as if she had ever seen a working-apron, and was very bright and talkative, and entertaining, and all the more so because of her husband's silence. He was given to moods, and sometimes aggravated his wife to desperation when he left all the conversation to her. 'Do talk, she would say to him when they were alone.
'That is just why I liked them so, because they were old-fashioned; it made them look like heir-looms, and showed that one had always had a family, Dolly said. Grace Atherton shrugged her still plump shoulders just a little, and thought of the first call she ever made upon Dolly, when she entered through the kitchen and the lady entertained her in her working-apron!
Through the half-opened door giving access to an inner room w e could see-in the midst of his molders, gilders, burnishers, and framers a little dark man with a beard, who looked up and hurriedly undid the strings of his working-apron. "Coming, Marie!" Little Madame Plumet was a trifle upset at having to receive us in undress, before she had tidied up her rooms.
Passing swiftly down the avenue, she did not know whether, upon arriving at her studio in McBurney Place, she should get into her working-apron or make an end, once and for all, of artistic pursuits. But with the lifting of the legless beggar's face to hers, all doubts vanished from her mind like smoke from a room when the windows and doors are opened.
Through the half-opened door giving access to an inner room w e could see-in the midst of his molders, gilders, burnishers, and framers a little dark man with a beard, who looked up and hurriedly undid the strings of his working-apron. "Coming, Marie!" Little Madame Plumet was a trifle upset at having to receive us in undress, before she had tidied up her rooms.
Through the half-opened door giving access to an inner room w e could see-in the midst of his molders, gilders, burnishers, and framers a little dark man with a beard, who looked up and hurriedly undid the strings of his working-apron. "Coming, Marie!" Little Madame Plumet was a trifle upset at having to receive us in undress, before she had tidied up her rooms.
Up went Christie, and after a hasty look round a room as plain and white and still as a nun's cell, she whisked on a working-apron and ran down again, feeling, as she fancied the children did in the fairy tale, when they first arrived at the house of the little old woman who lived in the wood. Mrs.
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