Desnoyers brought two chairs near
the hedge, so that when seated they were invisible to those passing on
the other side of the railing. But this was not solitude. A few steps
away, a fat, nearsighted man was reading his paper, and a group of
women were chatting and embroidering. A woman with a red wig and two
dogs--some housekeeper who had come down into the garden in order to
give her pets an airing--passed several times near the amorous pair,
smiling discreetly.
"How annoying!" groaned Marguerite. "Why did we ever come to this
place!"
The two scrutinized each other carefully, wishing to see exactly what
transformation Time had wrought.
"You are darker than ever," she said. "You look like a man of the sea."
Julio was finding her even lovelier than before, and felt sure that
possessing her was well worth all the contrarieties which had brought
about his trip to South America. She was taller than he, with an
elegantly proportioned slenderness. "She has the musical step,"
Desnoyers had told himself, when seeing her in his imagination; and now,
on beholding her again, the first thing that he admired was her rhythmic
tread, light and graceful as she passed through the garden seeking
another seat. Her features were not regular but they had a piquant
fascination--a true Parisian face. Everything that had been invented for
the embellishment of feminine charm was used about her person with the
most exquisite fastidiousness.
Pages:
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45