Books > Old Books > The Plumed Serpent (1926)


Page 170

CHAPTER X - Don Ramon and Dona Carlota

attacked. And she had walked already, as far as possible, in every direction, in the neighbourhood of the village, accompanied usually by Ezequiel. Now she was beginning to feel a prisoner.
She was glad, then, to be setting off. The morning was clear and hot, the pale brown lake quite still, like a phantom. People were moving on the beach, in the distance tiny, like dots of white: white dots of men following the faint dust of donkeys. She wondered often why humanity was like specks in the Mexican landscape; just spc s of life.
They passed from the lake shore to the rough, dusty road going west, between the steep slope of the hills and the bit of flat by the lake. For almost a mile there were villas, most of them shut up fast, some of them smashed, with broken walls and smashed windows. Only flowers bloomed in masses above the rubble.
In the empty places were flimsy straw huts of the natives, haphazard, as if blown there. By the road under the hill were black-grey adobe huts, like boxes, and fowls running about, and brown pigs or grey pigs spotted with black careered and grunted, and half-naked children, dark orange-brown, trotted or lay flat on their faces in the road, their little naked posteriors hunched up, fast asleep. Already asleep again.
The houses were many of them being re-thatched, or the tiled roofs were being patched by men who assumed a great air of importance at having undertaken such a task. They were pretending to hurry, too, because the real rains might begin any day. And in the little stony levels by the lake, the land was being scratch-ploughed by a pair of oxen and a lump of pointed wood.
But this part of the road Kate knew. She knew the fine villa on the knoll, with its tufts of palms, and the laid-out avenues that were laid out, indeed, as the dead are, to crumble back again. She was glad to be past the villas, where the road came down to the lake again, under big shady trees that had twisted, wriggly beans. On the left was the water, the colour of turtledoves, lapping the pale fawn stones. At a water-hole of a stream in the beach, a cluster of women were busily washing clothes. In the shallows of the lake itself two women sat bathing, their black hair hanging dense and wet. A little farther

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where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE attacked. And she had walked already, as far as possible, in every direction, in what is neighbourhood of what is village, accompanied usually by Ezequiel. Now she was beginning to feel a prisoner. She was glad, then, to be setting off. what is morning was clear and hot, what is pale brown lake quite still, like a phantom. People were moving on what is beach, in what is distance tiny, like dots of white: white dots of men following what is faint dust of donkeys. She wondered often why humanity was like specks in what is Mexican landscape; just spc s of life. They passed from what is lake shore to what is rough, dusty road going west, between what is steep slope of what is hills and what is bit of flat by what is lake. For almost a mile there were villas, most of them shut up fast, some of them smashed, with broken walls and smashed windows. Only flowers bloomed in masses above what is rubble. In what is empty places were flimsy straw huts of what is nati 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 170 where is strong CHAPTER X - Don Ramon and Dona Carlota where is p align="justify" attacked. And she had walked already, as far as possible, in every direction, in what is neighbourhood of what is village, accompanied usually by Ezequiel. Now she was beginning to feel a prisoner. She was glad, then, to be setting off. what is morning was clear and hot, what is pale brown lake quite still, like a phantom. People were moving on what is beach, in what is distance tiny, like dots of white: white dots of men following what is faint dust of donkeys. She wondered often why humanity was like specks in what is Mexican landscape; just spc s of life. They passed from what is lake shore to what is rough, dusty road going west, between what is steep slope of what is hills and what is bit of flat by what is lake. For almost a mile there were villas, most of them shut up fast, some of them smashed, with broken walls and smashed windows. Only flowers bloomed in masses above what is rubble. In what is empty places were flimsy straw huts of what is natives, haphazard, as if blown there. By what is road under what is hill were black-grey adobe huts, like boxes, and fowls running about, and brown pigs or grey pigs spotted with black careered and grunted, and half-naked children, dark orange-brown, trotted or lay flat on their faces in what is road, their little naked posteriors hunched up, fast asleep. Already asleep again. what is houses were many of them being re-thatched, or what is tiled roofs were being patched by men who assumed a great air of importance at having undertaken such a task. They were pretending to hurry, too, because what is real rains might begin any day. And in what is little stony levels by what is lake, what is land was being scratch-ploughed by a pair of oxen and a lump of pointed wood. But this part of what is road Kate knew. She knew what is fine villa on what is knoll, with its tufts of palms, and what is laid-out avenues that were laid out, indeed, as what is dead are, to crumble back again. She was glad to be past what is villas, where what is road came down to what is lake again, under big shady trees that had twisted, wriggly beans. On what is left was what is water, what is colour of turtledoves, lapping what is pale fawn stones. At a water-hole of a stream in what is beach, a cluster of women were busily washing clothes. In what is shallows of what is lake itself two women sat bathing, their black hair hanging dense and wet. A little farther where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") %

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