Читать книгу The Early Life and Adventures of Sylvia Scarlett - Compton Mackenzie - Страница 4

Sylvia flung her arms round her father.

“Take me with you,” she cried. “You hate her, don’t you? Take me, father.”

Henry rose and, in rising, upset the bottle of brandy.

“Thank God,” he said, fervently. “My own daughter still loves me.”

Sylvia perceived nothing ludicrous in the tone of her father’s speech, and happy tears rose to her eyes.

“See! here is the time-table. Must we go to-night? Sha’n’t we go to-night?”

She helped her father to pack; at midnight they were in the train going north.