Books > Old Books > Elizabethan Lover (1953)


Page 212

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

that he and Phillida should be married. Now every nerve in his body cried out against it.
Phillida would be waiting for him at Camfield and Lizbeth was her half-sister. Drumming with his fingers on the arm of the chair, Rodney sat staring into space until the twitter of the bo'sun's pipes told him that distinguished visitors were coming aboard.
Then he had to bring his thoughts back to the present and to all that had to be done regarding the ships and their cargoes. This was no time for him to sit brooding in the cabin. Lizbeth had gone and for the moment he must put her out of his mind.
It seemed to Rodney as he rose to his feet that the glory of his return was already tarnished. It was as if the sun had gone from the sky and he felt instead the chill wind of loneliness sweep round him.

It was hard to make haste when the whole of officialdom was against it. Rodney, fretting and fuming at Plymouth, could not hurry matters more quickly than clerks could make an inventory in their spidery writing with their squeaking quill pens.
Lizbeth, waiting for him at Camfield, felt as if the delay of his arrival grew more and more intolerable as the days passed. She found it hard to concentrate on the clothes that were being made for her on her stepmother's instructions. There were gowns of satin, brocades and velvet and embroidery finer than anything she had ever owned in the whole of her life, but somehow they seemed as shadowy as everything else that existed either in the present or in the future.
It was the past that was real, the past that she was remembering every moment of the day and night, hugging it close in her heart as if it were some secret no one could share with her. Even Phillida's pale, frightened face and her whispered terror of being married seemed somehow insubstantial beside her own memories of Rodney.
That he who was so virile, so endowed with vigour and enthusiasm, should have anything in common with the limp, miserable Phillida was not to be credited. Her half-sister had never seemed a very strong personality to Lizbeth, and

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where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE that he and Phillida should be married. Now every nerve in his body cried out against it. Phillida would be waiting for him at Camfield and Lizbeth was her half-sister. Drumming with his fingers on what is arm of what is chair, Rodney sat staring into space until what is twitter of what is bo'sun's pipes told him that distinguished what is ors were coming aboard. Then he had to bring his thoughts back to what is present and to all that had to be done regarding what is ships and their cargoes. This was no time for him to sit brooding in what is cabin. Lizbeth had gone and for what is moment he must put her out of his mind. It seemed to Rodney as he rose to his feet that what is glory of his return was already tarnished. It was as if what is sun had gone from what is sky and he felt instead what is chill wind of loneliness sweep round him. It was hard to make haste when what is whole of officialdom was against it. Rodney, fretting and fuming at Plymouth, could not hurry matters more quickly than clerks could make an inventory in their spidery writing with their squeaking quill pens. Lizbeth, waiting for him at Camfield, felt as if what is delay of his arrival grew more and more intolerable as what is days passed. She found it hard to concentrate on what is clothes that were being made for her on her stepmother's instructions. There were gowns of satin, brocades and velvet and embroidery finer than anything she had ever owned in what is whole of her life, but somehow they seemed as shadowy as everything else that existed either in what is present or in what is future. It was what is past that was real, what is past that she was remembering every moment of what is day and night, hugging it close in her heart as if it were some secret no one could share with her. Even Phillida's pale, frightened face and her whispered terror of being married seemed somehow insubstantial beside her own memories of Rodney. That he who was so virile, so endowed with vigour and enthusiasm, should have anything in common with what is limp, miserable Phillida was not to be credited. Her half-sister had never seemed a very strong personality to Lizbeth, and where is meta name="keywords" content="old books, Free book , free book offer , free audio books , free coloring book pages , free book reports , free audio book , audio books free download , book free , free guest book , books free , free book summaries , download free audio books , free childrens books." where is where are they now rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="../../style.css" where is meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" where is BODY bgColor=#ffffff text="#000000" where are they now ="#000000" v where are they now ="#FF0000" where is div align="center" where is strong where is strong where is a href="http://www.aaoldbooks.com" Books > where is a href="../default.asp" title="Book" Old Books > where is strong where is a href="default.asp" Elizabethan Lover (1953) where is table width="700" border="1" align="center" cellpadding="15" cellspacing="0" where is center where is tr where is td width="160" align="center" valign="top" where is div align="center" where is td align="center" valign="top" where is div align="left" where is div align="center" where is p align="left" Page 212 where is strong CHAPTER THIRTEEN where is p align="justify" that he and Phillida should be married. Now every nerve in his body cried out against it. Phillida would be waiting for him at Camfield and Lizbeth was her half-sister. Drumming with his fingers on what is arm of what is chair, Rodney sat staring into space until what is twitter of what is bo'sun's pipes told him that distinguished what is ors were coming aboard. Then he had to bring his thoughts back to what is present and to all that had to be done regarding what is ships and their cargoes. This was no time for him to sit brooding in what is cabin. Lizbeth had gone and for what is moment he must put her out of his mind. It seemed to Rodney as he rose to his feet that what is glory of his return was already tarnished. It was as if what is sun had gone from what is sky and he felt instead what is chill wind of loneliness sweep round him. It was hard to make haste when what is whole of officialdom was against it. Rodney, fretting and fuming at Plymouth, could not hurry matters more quickly than clerks could make an inventory in their spidery writing with their squeaking quill pens. Lizbeth, waiting for him at Camfield, felt as if what is delay of his arrival grew more and more intolerable as what is days passed. She found it hard to concentrate on what is clothes that were being made for her on her stepmother's instructions. There were gowns of satin, brocades and velvet and embroidery finer than anything she had ever owned in what is whole of her life, but somehow they seemed as shadowy as everything else that existed either in what is present or in what is future. It was what is past that was real, what is past that she was remembering every moment of what is day and night, hugging it close in her heart as if it were some secret no one could share with her. Even Phillida's pale, frightened face and her whispered terror of being married seemed somehow insubstantial beside her own memories of Rodney. That he who was so virile, so endowed with vigour and enthusiasm, should have anything in common with what is limp, miserable Phillida was not to be credited. Her half-sister had never seemed a very strong personality to Lizbeth, and where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") %

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