Books > Old Books > The White Peacock (1906)


Page 35

PART I - CHAPTER III
A VENDOR OF VISIONS


`No, I've never seen it before,' he said.
`I'm surprised,' she said. `It is a very common one.,'
'Is it?' he answered, and this make-belief conversation fell. She looked up, and found his eyes. They gazed at each other for a moment before they hid their faces again. It was a torture to each of them to look thus nakedly at the other, a dazzled, shrinking pain that they forced themselves to undergo for a moment, that they might the moment after tremble with a fierce sensation that filled their veins with fluid, fiery electricity. She sought almost in panic, for something to say.
' I believe it 's in Liverpool, the picture,' she contrived to say.
He dared not kill this conversation, he was too selfconscious. He forced himself to reply: `I didn't know there was a gallery in Liverpool.'
`Oh, yes, a very good one,' she said.
Their eyes met in the briefest flash of a glance, then both turned their faces aside. Thus averted, one from the other, they made talk. At last she rose, gathered the books together, and carried them off. At the door she turned. She must steal another keen moment. `Are you admiring my strength?' she asked. Her pose was fine. With her head thrown back, the roundness of her throat ran finely down to the bosom which swelled above the pile of books, held by her straight arms. He looked at her. Their lips smiled curiously. She put back her throat as if she were drinking. They felt the blood beating madly in their necks. Then, suddenly breaking into a slight trembling, she turned round and left the room.
While she was out, he sat twisting his moustache. She came back along the hall talking madly to herself in French. Having been much impressed by Sarah Bernhardt's `Dame aux Camelias' and `Adrienne Lecouvreur,' Lettie had caught something of the weird tone of this great actress, and her raillery and mockery carne out in little wild waves. She laughed at him, and at herself, and at men in general, and at love in particular. Whatever he said to her, she answered in the same mad clatter of French, speaking high and harshly. The sound was strange and uncomfortable. There was a painful perplexity in his brow, such as

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where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE `No, I've never seen it before,' he said. `I'm surprised,' she said. `It is a very common one.,' 'Is it?' he answered, and this make-belief conversation fell. She looked up, and found his eyes. They gazed at each other for a moment before they hid their faces again. It was a torture to each of them to look thus nakedly at what is other, a dazzled, shrinking pain that they forced themselves to undergo for a moment, that they might what is moment after tremble with a fierce sensation that filled their veins with fluid, fiery electricity. She sought almost in panic, for something to say. ' I believe it 's in Liverpool, what is picture,' she contrived to say. He dared not stop this conversation, he was too selfconscious. He forced himself to reply: `I didn't know there was a gallery in Liverpool.' `Oh, yes, a very good one,' she said. Their eyes met in what is briefest flash of a glance, then both turned their faces aside. Thus averted, one from what is other, they made talk. At last she rose, gathered what is books together, and carried them off. At what is door she turned. She must steal another keen moment. `Are you admiring my strength?' she asked. Her pose was fine. With her head thrown back, what is roundness of her throat ran finely down to what is bosom which swelled above what is pile of books, held by her straight arms. He looked at her. Their lips smiled curiously. She put back her throat as if she were drinking. They felt what is blood beating madly in their necks. Then, suddenly breaking into a slight trembling, she turned round and left what is room. While she was out, he sat twisting his moustache. She came back along what is hall talking madly to herself in French. Having been much impressed by Sarah Bernhardt's `Dame aux Camelias' and `Adrienne Lecouvreur,' Lettie had caught something of what is weird tone of this great actress, and her raillery and mockery carne out in little wild waves. She laughed at him, and at herself, and at men in general, and at what time is it in particular. Whatever he said to her, she answered in what is same mad clatter of French, speaking high and harshly. what is sound was strange and uncomfortable. There was a painful perplexity in his brow, such as 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 White Peacock (1906) 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 35 where is strong PART I - CHAPTER III A VENDOR OF VISIONS where is p align="justify" `No, I've never seen it before,' he said. `I'm surprised,' she said. `It is a very common one.,' 'Is it?' he answered, and this make-belief conversation fell. She looked up, and found his eyes. They gazed at each other for a moment before they hid their faces again. It was a torture to each of them to look thus nakedly at what is other, a dazzled, shrinking pain that they forced themselves to undergo for a moment, that they might what is moment after tremble with a fierce sensation that filled their veins with fluid, fiery electricity. She sought almost in panic, for something to say. ' I believe it 's in Liverpool, what is picture,' she contrived to say. He dared not stop this conversation, he was too selfconscious. He forced himself to reply: `I didn't know there was a gallery in Liverpool.' `Oh, yes, a very good one,' she said. Their eyes met in what is briefest flash of a glance, then both turned their faces aside. Thus averted, one from what is other, they made talk. At last she rose, gathered what is books together, and carried them off. At what is door she turned. She must steal another keen moment. `Are you admiring my strength?' she asked. Her pose was fine. With her head thrown back, what is roundness of her throat ran finely down to what is bosom which swelled above what is pile of books, held by her straight arms. He looked at her. Their lips smiled curiously. She put back her throat as if she were drinking. They felt what is blood beating madly in their necks. Then, suddenly breaking into a slight trembling, she turned round and left what is room. While she was out, he sat twisting his moustache. She came back along what is hall talking madly to herself in French. Having been much impressed by Sarah Bernhardt's `Dame aux Camelias' and `Adrienne Lecouvreur,' Lettie had caught something of what is weird tone of this great actress, and her raillery and mockery carne out in little wild waves. She laughed at him, and at herself, and at men in general, and at what time is it in particular. Whatever he said to her, she answered in what is same mad clatter of French, speaking high and harshly. what is sound was strange and uncomfortable. There was a painful perplexity in his brow, such as where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") %

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