Books > Old Books > Midnight Tales (1946)


Page 165

MISS AVENAL

by a rough track through the woods that went no farther than the mill. The people of the house seemed as silent as the dumb Kildale Beck that was swallowed in the limestone meadow. below the weir; they were as hard as the dry rocks of its bed.
Naturally I saw a great deal of Miss Avenal. I was with her the whole day long, except for two hours in the afternoon, when I was free to go walks. I am not fond of solitary country rambles. I do not know the names of birds and flowers, for all my life has been lived in towns.
Kildale was so far from any village, that I never had time to escape from the solitude of the empty valley. The walk I took more often than any other was by a path through the fields that followed the side of the dried-up river-bed to Kildale Church. There were no houses by the church. It stood alone, two miles from the nearest village, and the door was always locked. The locked, ever-empty church, silent and solitary, the valley with its waterless river-bed, shut in by woods too thick for birds to sing in, made a deep impression on my mind. For the stream seemed to be the soul of the valley, and when it disappeared it was as if it took with it all the valley's life that mattered.
Kildale evidently suited Miss Avenal. For a week or two after our arrival she would lie all day long on a couch I made for her among the fern in the woods. She did not talk much, but she could not bear to be left alone. Hour after hour she would spend looking up at the little patches of sky that pricked through the pine branches, as if she were gazing into blue pools hidden in the crevices of dark rocks.
`You must not leave me, nurse,' she would say. `I am so weak and feeble, and you are so young and so strong. Talk to me, nurse. Make me forget myself.'
As I sat beside her in the fern, I did not mean to speak more intimately than I should have done to any other chance acquaintance; but the world seemed very small, and everything in these hot August days was so remote, that when a week had passed there must have been little about me that Miss Avenal did not know. She was a wonderful listener.

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where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE by a rough track through what is woods that went no farther than what is mill. what is people of what is house seemed as silent as what is dumb Kildale Beck that was swallowed in what is limestone meadow. below what is weir; they were as hard as what is dry rocks of its bed. Naturally I saw a great deal of Miss Avenal. I was with her what is whole day long, except for two hours in what is afternoon, when I was free to go walks. I am not fond of solitary country rambles. I do not know what is names of birds and flowers, for all my life has been lived in towns. Kildale was so far from any village, that I never had time to escape from what is solitude of what is empty valley. what is walk I took more often than any other was by a path through what is fields that followed what is side of what is dried-up river-bed to Kildale Church. There were no houses by what is church. It stood alone, two miles from what is nearest village, and what is door was always locked. what is locked, ever-empty church, silent and solitary, what is valley with its waterless river-bed, shut in by woods too thick for birds to sing in, made a deep impression on my mind. For what is stream seemed to be what is soul of what is valley, and when it disappeared it was as if it took with it all what is valley's life that mattered. Kildale evidently suited Miss Avenal. For a week or two after our arrival she would lie all day long on a couch I made for her among what is fern in what is woods. She did not talk much, but she could not bear to be left alone. Hour after hour she would spend looking up at what is little patches of sky that pricked through what is pine branches, as if she were gazing into blue pools hidden in what is crevices of dark rocks. `You must not leave me, nurse,' she would say. `I am so weak and feeble, and you are so young and so strong. Talk to me, nurse. Make me forget myself.' As I sat beside her in what is fern, I did not mean to speak more intimately than I should have done to any other chance acquaintance; but what is world seemed very small, and everything in these hot August days was so remote, that when a week had passed there must have been little about me that Miss Avenal did not know. She was a wonderful listener. 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" Midnight Tales (1946) 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 165 where is p align="center" where is strong MISS AVENAL where is p align="justify" by a rough track through what is woods that went no farther than what is mill. what is people of what is house seemed as silent as what is dumb Kildale Beck that was swallowed in what is limestone meadow. below what is weir; they were as hard as what is dry rocks of its bed. Naturally I saw a great deal of Miss Avenal. I was with her the whole day long, except for two hours in what is afternoon, when I was free to go walks. I am not fond of solitary country rambles. I do not know what is names of birds and flowers, for all my life has been lived in towns. Kildale was so far from any village, that I never had time to escape from what is solitude of what is empty valley. what is walk I took more often than any other was by a path through what is fields that followed the side of what is dried-up river-bed to Kildale Church. There were no houses by what is church. It stood alone, two miles from what is nearest village, and what is door was always locked. what is locked, ever-empty church, silent and solitary, what is valley with its waterless river-bed, shut in by woods too thick for birds to sing in, made a deep impression on my mind. For what is stream seemed to be what is soul of what is valley, and when it disappeared it was as if it took with it all what is valley's life that mattered. Kildale evidently suited Miss Avenal. For a week or two after our arrival she would lie all day long on a couch I made for her among what is fern in what is woods. She did not talk much, but she could not bear to be left alone. Hour after hour she would spend looking up at what is little patches of sky that pricked through what is pine branches, as if she were gazing into blue pools hidden in what is crevices of dark rocks. `You must not leave me, nurse,' she would say. `I am so weak and feeble, and you are so young and so strong. Talk to me, nurse. Make me forget myself.' As I sat beside her in what is fern, I did not mean to speak more intimately than I should have done to any other chance acquaintance; but the world seemed very small, and everything in these hot August days was so remote, that when a week had passed there must have been little about me that Miss Avenal did not know. She was a wonderful listener. where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") % travel books: Midnight Tales (1946) books

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