Читать книгу Rest Harrow - Maurice Hewlett - Страница 3
ОглавлениеILLUSTRATIONS (not available in this edition)
Wrote deliberately to each of her sisters
The hum of cities, and buzz of dinner tables . . sound in his ears not at all.
The housekeeper! This—person!
He had eloquence, he thought, as he watched her, he had won. But he was anxious. She was such a deep one.
Ploughman in the vales would sometimes see his gaunt figure on the sky-line.
“Well, Sanchia,” he said, “here I am.”
The great music went sobbing and chiding through her frame, like wounded nightingales.
Senhouse came back to her bedside and put a little flower into her hand