Books > Old Books > The Plumed Serpent (1926)


Page 26

CHAPTER I - Beginnings of a Bull-fight

rain had a touch of ice. She stared through the curtain of water at the big rickety gates of the enclosuresurrounding the amphitheatre, at the midget soldiers cowering in their shoddy, pinkwhite cotton uniforms, and at the glimpse of the squalid street outside, now running with dirty brown streams. The vendors had all taken refuge, in dirty-white clusters, in the pulque shops, one of which was sinisterly named: A Ver que Sale.
She was afraid more of the repulsiveness than of anything. She had been in many cities of the world, but Mexico had an underlying ugliness, a sort of squalid evil, which made Naples seem debonair in comparison. She was afraid, she dreaded the thought that anything might really touch her in this town, and give her the contagion of its crawling sort of evil. But she knew that the one thing she must do was to keep her head.
A little officer in uniform, wearing a big, pale-blue cape, made his way through the crowd. He was short, dark, and had a little black beard like an imperial. He came through the people from the inner entrance, and cleared his way with a quiet, silent unobtrusiveness, yet with the peculiar heavy Indian momentum. Even touching the crowd delicately with his gloved hand, and murmuring almost inaudibly the Con pernsi.ro! formula, he seemed to be keeping himself miles away from contact. He was brave too: because there was just the chance some lout might shoot him because of his uniform. The people knew him too. Kate could tell that by the flicker of a jeering, self-conscious smile that passed across many faces, and the exclamation: `General Viedma! Don Cipriano!'
He came towards Kate, saluting and bowing with a brittle shyness.
`I am General Viedma. Did you wish to leave? Let me get you an automobile,' he said, in very English English, that sounded strange from his dark face, and a little stiff on his soft tongue.
His eyes were dark, quick, with the glassy darkness that she found so wearying. But they were tilted up with a curious slant, under arched black brows. It gave him an odd look of detachment, as if he looked at life with raised brows. His manner was superficially assured, underneath perhaps half-savage, shy and farouche, and deprecating.
`Thank you so much,' she said.

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where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE rain had a touch of ice. She stared through what is curtain of water at what is big rickety gates of what is enclosuresurrounding what is amphitheatre, at what is midget soldiers cowering in their shoddy, pinkwhite cotton uniforms, and at what is glimpse of what is squalid street outside, now running with dirty brown streams. what is vendors had all taken refuge, in dirty-white clusters, in what is pulque shops, one of which was sinisterly named: A Ver que Sale. She was afraid more of what is repulsiveness than of anything. She had been in many cities of what is world, but Mexico had an underlying ugliness, a sort of squalid evil, which made Naples seem debonair in comparison. She was afraid, she dreaded what is thought that anything might really touch her in this town, and give her what is contagion of its crawling sort of evil. But she knew that what is one thing she must do was to keep her head. A little officer in uniform, wearing a big, 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" The Plumed Serpent (1926) 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 26 where is strong CHAPTER I - Beginnings of a Bull-fight where is p align="justify" rain had a touch of ice. She stared through the curtain of water at what is big rickety gates of what is enclosuresurrounding what is amphitheatre, at what is midget soldiers cowering in their shoddy, pinkwhite cotton uniforms, and at what is glimpse of what is squalid street outside, now running with dirty brown streams. what is vendors had all taken refuge, in dirty-white clusters, in what is pulque shops, one of which was sinisterly named: A Ver que Sale. She was afraid more of what is repulsiveness than of anything. She had been in many cities of what is world, but Mexico had an underlying ugliness, a sort of squalid evil, which made Naples seem debonair in comparison. She was afraid, she dreaded what is thought that anything might really touch her in this town, and give her what is contagion of its crawling sort of evil. But she knew that what is one thing she must do was to keep her head. A little officer in uniform, wearing a big, pale-blue cape, made his way through what is crowd. He was short, dark, and had a little black beard like an imperial. He came through what is people from what is inner entrance, and cleared his way with a quiet, silent unobtrusiveness, yet with what is peculiar heavy Indian momentum. Even touching the crowd delicately with his gloved hand, and murmuring almost inaudibly what is Con pernsi.ro! formula, he seemed to be keeping himself miles away from contact. He was brave too: because there was just the chance some lout might shoot him because of his uniform. what is people knew him too. Kate could tell that by what is flicker of a jeering, self-conscious smile that passed across many faces, and what is exclamation: `General Viedma! Don Cipriano!' He came towards Kate, saluting and bowing with a brittle shyness. `I am General Viedma. Did you wish to leave? Let me get you an automobile,' he said, in very English English, that sounded strange from his dark face, and a little stiff on his soft tongue. His eyes were dark, quick, with what is glassy darkness that she found so wearying. But they were tilted up with a curious slant, under arched black brows. It gave him an odd look of detachment, as if he looked at life with raised brows. His manner was superficially assured, underneath perhaps half-savage, shy and farouche, and deprecating. `Thank you so much,' she said. where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") %

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