Maisie looked more than usually
kissable
as she stepped from the
night-mail on to the windy pier, in a gray waterproof and a little gray
cloth travelling-cap.
night-mail on to the windy pier, in a gray waterproof and a little gray
cloth travelling-cap.
Kipling - Poems
' I'll do it
at once, con--bless her. "
He discovered that the notion would not come to order, and that he could
not free his mind for an hour from the thought of Maisie's departure.
He took very small interest in her rough studies for the Melancolia when
she showed them next week. The Sundays were racing past, and the time
was at hand when all the church bells in London could not ring
Maisie back to him. Once or twice he said something to Binkie about
'hermaphroditic futilities,' but the little dog received so many
confidences both from Torpenhow and Dick that he did not trouble his
tulip-ears to listen.
Dick was permitted to see the girls off. They were going by the Dover
night-boat; and they hoped to return in August. It was then February,
and Dick felt that he was being hardly used. Maisie was so busy
stripping the small house across the Park, and packing her canvases,
that she had not time for thought. Dick went down to Dover and wasted
a day there fretting over a wonderful possibility. Would Maisie at the
very last allow him one small kiss? He reflected that he might capture
her by the strong arm, as he had seem women captured in the Southern
Soudan, and lead her away; but Maisie would never be led. She would turn
her gray eyes upon him and say, "Dick, how selfish you are! " Then his
courage would fail him. It would be better, after all, to beg for that
kiss.
Maisie looked more than usually kissable as she stepped from the
night-mail on to the windy pier, in a gray waterproof and a little gray
cloth travelling-cap. The red-haired girl was not so lovely. Her green
eyes were hollow and her lips were dry. Dick saw the trunks aboard, and
went to Maisie's side in the darkness under the bridge. The mail-bags
were thundering into the forehold, and the red-haired girl was watching
them.
"You'll have a rough passage tonight," said Dick. "It's blowing outside.
I suppose I may come over and see you if I'm good? "
"You mustn't. I shall be busy. At least, if I want you I'll send for
you. But I shall write from Vitry-sur-Marne. I shall have heaps of
things to consult you about. Oh, Dick, you have been so good to me! --so
good to me! "
"Thank you for that, dear.
at once, con--bless her. "
He discovered that the notion would not come to order, and that he could
not free his mind for an hour from the thought of Maisie's departure.
He took very small interest in her rough studies for the Melancolia when
she showed them next week. The Sundays were racing past, and the time
was at hand when all the church bells in London could not ring
Maisie back to him. Once or twice he said something to Binkie about
'hermaphroditic futilities,' but the little dog received so many
confidences both from Torpenhow and Dick that he did not trouble his
tulip-ears to listen.
Dick was permitted to see the girls off. They were going by the Dover
night-boat; and they hoped to return in August. It was then February,
and Dick felt that he was being hardly used. Maisie was so busy
stripping the small house across the Park, and packing her canvases,
that she had not time for thought. Dick went down to Dover and wasted
a day there fretting over a wonderful possibility. Would Maisie at the
very last allow him one small kiss? He reflected that he might capture
her by the strong arm, as he had seem women captured in the Southern
Soudan, and lead her away; but Maisie would never be led. She would turn
her gray eyes upon him and say, "Dick, how selfish you are! " Then his
courage would fail him. It would be better, after all, to beg for that
kiss.
Maisie looked more than usually kissable as she stepped from the
night-mail on to the windy pier, in a gray waterproof and a little gray
cloth travelling-cap. The red-haired girl was not so lovely. Her green
eyes were hollow and her lips were dry. Dick saw the trunks aboard, and
went to Maisie's side in the darkness under the bridge. The mail-bags
were thundering into the forehold, and the red-haired girl was watching
them.
"You'll have a rough passage tonight," said Dick. "It's blowing outside.
I suppose I may come over and see you if I'm good? "
"You mustn't. I shall be busy. At least, if I want you I'll send for
you. But I shall write from Vitry-sur-Marne. I shall have heaps of
things to consult you about. Oh, Dick, you have been so good to me! --so
good to me! "
"Thank you for that, dear.
