Читать книгу Playing with Fire - James Grant - Страница 9

'What do you think of our Annot?' asked Hester, returning for a moment.

'That she has a wonderfully fair skin,' replied Roland slowly.

'All the Drummond women have that—it runs in the clan. But her eyes—are they not beautiful?'

'I cannot say.'

'Did you not see them?'

'No, Hester.'

'Why?'

'She scarcely looked at me.'

'They are the loveliest hazel!' exclaimed Hester.

'Hazel—rather green, I think; but you know, I prefer eyes of violet blue or gray to all others, Hester.'

She laughed, as she knew her own were the eyes referred to; but now the gong—a trophy of Sir Harry's from Jhansi—sounded, and Annot came hurrying downstairs, and clasped one of Hester's arms within her own so caressingly, with her white fingers interlaced.

To Roland now, at second sight, she looked wonderfully petite and gentle, pure and fair—'fair as a snow-flake and nearly just as fragile,' Sir Harry once said, and she clung lovingly and confidingly to Hester, but it seemed as if, of necessity, Annot must always be clinging to someone or something.