Отрывок из книги
L. M. Montgomery
Published by Good Press, 2021
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“I have not. But her name is Sylvia. She is tall and has very black hair, which she always wears brushed straight back from her forehead as only a really pretty woman can dare to brush it. Of course she is fortunate enough to have a widow’s peak. Then she wears it in a heavy, glossy braid around her head. She has intensely blue eyes, with very black lashes and straight black brows. She has a pale creamy face with a skin like a white narcissus petal, but a red, red, mouth—and lovely hands, Cousin Clorinda. A beautiful hand is one of the chief charms of a beautiful woman. Sylvia’s hands are—oh, I wish you could see Sylvia’s hands! I wish I could see them! But I never shall. It’s a depressing thought, cousin. But haven’t you a nice girl or two round to amuse me? You always used to have, shoals of them.”
“That was when my girls were home. They don’t come any more. Girls are scarce, it seems to me. Soon as they grow up now they’re off and away. I’ve the school-teacher boarding with me. She might do—she’s cute and pretty. And it would be quite safe for both of you,” concluded Cousin Clorinda solemnly, “because you would never really fall in love with her and she has a young man of her own.”
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