- Software name: appdown
- Software type: Microsoft Framwork
- size: 684MB
The woman hesitated for a moment or two, then she went to the door and spoke to the man on guard there.Lady Ada came into the room.
Effaces is a good word, said Esmeralda. She turned to the tall pier glass and looked at the reflection. She knew that Barker had spoken the truthit was superb. The combination of the soft tones of the white velvet with the magnificent diamonds and sapphires was simply perfect. Devoid of vanity as she was, a little thrill ran through her; she realized that it was not only the dress and the gems which were beautiful. Then, suddenly, with a pang, she remembered that it was all of no use; the man she loved loved her not. He had married her for her money; to him her beauty would be as nothing; he would have no eyes for any one but Ada Lancing. She turned suddenly to Barker."Any day, any hour, Captain Kincaid may return. Oh, if 'twere anybody in this worl' but him! For, Anna, I must take all the blame--all!" The face went again into the hands.
Esmeraldas face grew hot, and she looked straight before her.Her lips movedthey were very white at this momentbut all he could hear was:
"But how?" they further asked. "He had left good-by? Good-day, yes! But for what good-by when juz' returning?"The distant martial strains became more coherent. In remote balconies handkerchiefs fluttered wildly, and under nearer and nearer ones the people began to pack closer and choose their footing along the curb. Presently from the approaching column came who but Hilary Kincaid, galloping easily over the slippery pavements. Anna saw his eyes sweep the bank of human flowers (with its occasional male caterpillar) on Moody's balcony and light upon Flora. He lifted his kpi and halted. One could read his soft questions.
Oh, it is beautiful, beautiful! she cried. And it is all in such order, like a big garden. And why do all the people touch their hats, and bob down to the ground as we pass?The small lady gave the blunderer a grave, brief, now-you-have-done-it glance and looked down. "Well, I know," she measuredly said, "that a man who can tell a woman that, isn't capable of loving her half enough." She turned to go back, with a quickness which, I avow, was beautifully and tenderly different from irritation, yet which caused her petticoat's frail embroidery to catch on one of his spurs and cling till the whole laughing bevy had gathered round to jest over Flora's disentanglement of it.