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The hand that poured out the tea wasplump, shapely, and well cared for. The
days are far too short for all there is to do.
There was a child thatdied, you
know, and after that there was nothing to hold themtogether. No, he continued
in reply to a question, I never heard anysuggestion of scandal. Not that he
dranktoo much, though he did himself well.
There wasthe same air of sunny
cheerfulness as in the rest of the house. The gripof his small firm hand had a
sort of electric energy.
Ivebeen rubbing up my classics again, he was
saying.
Even if you only comehere for the week-ends, sport lets you into the
secrets of thecountryside.
To contact Project Gutenberg of Australia go to
http://gutenberg. Somehow I didnt think that the impress had come from the
Giffensside. It isntlarge, but it takes a lot of looking after. You remember
how he looked, sir, and he turned to theold man. It will please Ursula anddo no
harm to anybody. It was indeed a curiously charming picture. The wrack was
lifting before the wind and a shaft of late waterysun fell on the grey
walls.
The dining-room was long and low-ceilinged, and had a whitepanelling in
bold relief. You mustnt think that Ursula and I takein that stuff for
ourselves.
A green-baize table filled most ofthe floor, surrounded by chairs
like a committee room.
I reckoned ondisaster, but not from Adams side. I knew
what Leithen meant, but it would have taken too long toexplain. She had bright
eager eyes,like a bird, and hands that fluttered nervously. I wouldnt
leaveOxfordshire just now for a thousand pounds.
My mind was busy with surmises
as we rode up the avenue. And knows no pageant save the pipes and shawmsOf his
proud spirit.
He drops out of His Majestys service and his life isruined.
The
facts were not in doubt, and he made no attemptto dispute them. With him it was
easy to come to terms,and presently the water was parcelled out between us.
It
was all in miniature, but it had a spaciousness whichno mere size could give.
It was not till nearly two years later that I saw the Giffensagain. The room
had a white panelling, and on two sides deep windows.
I said something about
that being an odd milieu for him.
It had always been there in the days ofthe
Carterons and the Applebys.
There was a kind ofcrazed furtive relief in it
which made my spine cold.
In that adorable house one seemed to be
stillbreathing the air of the spring meadows.
The World is a bridge; pass
overit, but build no house upon it.
It was all around me: theivory panelling,
the olive-wood staircase, the lovely pillaredhall.
In this kind of house you
have the mystery of the elderEngland.
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