His Hour by Elinor Glyn
page 97 of 228 (42%)
page 97 of 228 (42%)
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gentleman in and out the chairs, and his great success was putting his
forelegs on the fender seat!" "How you have missed your metiƩr!" Tamara said, and she leant back in her sofa and surveyed him as he stood, a graceful tall figure in his blue long coat. "Think of the triumph you would have in a Hippodrome!" He straightened himself suddenly, his great eyes flashed, and over his face came a fierceness she had not guessed. "I thought you had melted a little--here in our snow, but I see it is the mummy there all the same," he said. Tamara laughed. For the first time it was she who held the reins. "Even to the wrappings,"--and she gently kicked out the soft gray folds of her skirt. He took a step nearer her, and then he stood still, and while the fierceness remained in his face, his eyes were full of pain. She glanced up at him, and over her came almost a sense of indignation that he should so unworthily pass his time. "How you waste your life!" she said. "Oh! think to be a man, and free, and a great landowner. To have thousands of peasants dependent upon one's frown. To have the opportunity of lifting them into something useful and good. And to spend one's hours and find one's pleasure in such things as this! Riding one's favorite horse at the risk of its and one's own neck, up and down the stairs. Ah! I congratulate you, |
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