Unmarked6698
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
Mona pours out the tea—which is excellent—and puts in the cream—which is a thing to dream of—with a liberal hand. She smiles at Geoffrey across the sugar-bowl, and chatters to him over the big bowl of flowers that lies in the centre of the table. Not a hothouse bouquet faultlessly arranged, by any means, but a great, tender, happy, straggling bunch of flowers that seem to have fallen into their places of their own accord, regardless of coloring, and fill the room with their perfume. "Well, really, do you know, I think she did!" says Mona, so demurely that they all smile again. "No, no, indeed. You have behaved admirably where most women would have ignominiously failed. Let that thought console you. To have a perfect temper, such as yours, should be in itself a source of satisfaction. And now bathe your eyes, and make yourself look even prettier than usual. A difficult matter, isn't it?" with a friendly smile..
453 people found this
review helpful
kez_ h (Kez_h)
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
Sign up now at betwaydragon.com and unlock incredible rewards:I tried logging in using my phone number and I
was supposed to get a verification code text,but didn't
get it. I clicked resend a couple time, tried the "call
me instead" option twice but didn't get a call
either. the trouble shooting had no info on if the call
me instead fails.There was
This Christmas, indulge in the ultimate blend of entertainment and rewards at joker times xmas. Join in the festive cheer with a touch of comedy and stand a chance to win big. Let the joker in you bring home the prizes this Xmas!
658 people found this
review helpful
Conrad
"I see no reason why she should not talk to any man she pleases. I know her well enough to trust her anywhere, and am deeply thankful for such knowledge. In fact," with some passion, sudden but subdued, "I feel as though in discussing her in this cold-blooded fashion I am doing her some grievous wrong." When she has finished, Geoffrey says "thank you" in a low tone. He is thinking of the last time when some one else sang to him, and of how different the whole scene was from this. It was at the Towers, and the hour with its dying daylight, rises before him. The subdued light of the summer eve, the open window, the perfume of the drowsy flowers, the girl at the piano with her small drooping head and her perfectly trained and very pretty voice, the room, the soft silence, his mother leaning back in her crimson velvet chair, beating time to the music with her long jewelled, fingers,—all is remembered. "But he wants to marry you. I know he does. Tell me the truth about that," he says, with flattering vehemence. For an instant Rodney turns his eyes on her, and then goes back to his sneering examination of Geoffrey. Between them the two dogs still lie, quiet but eager..
298 people found this
review helpful