Yolanda: Maid of Burgundy by Charles Major
page 315 of 353 (89%)
page 315 of 353 (89%)
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ardently for Yolanda to come out of her skin, and my heart leaped with
joy at the early prospect. I was right in my surmise. Yolanda's sweet face, radiant with smiles and soft with dimples, was pressed against the window-pane watching for us when we crossed the moat bridge at Castleman's door. "To see her face again is like coming back to heaven; isn't it, Karl?" said Max. Yolanda ran to the door and opened it. "I am glad you did not stay with her," she said, giving a hand to Max and to me, and walking into the room between us. She was like a child holding our hands. I had seen the world and its people in all its phases, and I prided myself on my shrewdness, but without my knowledge of the stairway in the wall, I would have sworn that Yolanda had played a trick on me by leading me to believe that she was the Princess Mary. Even with full knowledge of all the facts, I found myself doubting. It is small cause for wonder, therefore, that Max was deceived. "Uncle is at the shop," said Yolanda. "Tante is at a neighbor's, and Twonette, of course, is asleep. We three will sit here on this bench with no one to disturb us, and I shall have you both all to myself. No! There! I'll sit between you. Now, this is delightful." She sat between us, crossed her knees--an unpardonable crime, Frau Kate would have thought--and giving a hand to Max and to me, said |
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