'
Her departure was always unexpected, her moods changed with so much
rapidity.
Her departure was always unexpected, her moods changed with so much
rapidity.
Yeats
The whole world had that unreal air it assumes
at beautiful moments, as though it might vanish at a touch like an
iridescent soap-bubble.
After a little Margaret said she was tired, and, sitting on a
garden-seat among the bushes, began telling him the plots of novels
lately read by her. Suddenly she cried: 'The novel-writers were all
serious people like you. They are so hard on people like me. They
always make us come to a bad end. They _say_ we are always acting,
acting, acting; and what else do you serious people do? You act before
the world. I think, do you know, _we_ act before ourselves. All the
old foolish kings and queens in history were like us. They laughed and
beckoned and went to the block for no very good purpose. I daresay the
headsmen were like you. '
'We would never cut off so pretty a head. '
'Oh, yes, you would--you would cut off mine to-morrow. ' All this she
said vehemently, piercing him with her bright eyes. 'You would cut off
my head to-morrow,' she repeated, almost fiercely; 'I tell you you
would.
'
Her departure was always unexpected, her moods changed with so much
rapidity. 'Look! ' she said, pointing where the clock on St. Peter's
church showed above the bushes. 'Five minutes to five. In five minutes
my mother's tea-hour. It is like growing old. I go to gossip. Good-bye. '
The red feather shone for a moment among the bushes and was gone.
IV
The next day and the day after, Sherman was followed by those bright
eyes. When he opened a letter at his desk they seemed to gaze at him
from the open paper, and to watch him from the flies upon the ceiling.
He was even a worse clerk than usual.
One evening he said to his mother, 'Miss Leland has beautiful eyes. '
'My dear, she puts belladonna in them. '
'What a thing to say!
at beautiful moments, as though it might vanish at a touch like an
iridescent soap-bubble.
After a little Margaret said she was tired, and, sitting on a
garden-seat among the bushes, began telling him the plots of novels
lately read by her. Suddenly she cried: 'The novel-writers were all
serious people like you. They are so hard on people like me. They
always make us come to a bad end. They _say_ we are always acting,
acting, acting; and what else do you serious people do? You act before
the world. I think, do you know, _we_ act before ourselves. All the
old foolish kings and queens in history were like us. They laughed and
beckoned and went to the block for no very good purpose. I daresay the
headsmen were like you. '
'We would never cut off so pretty a head. '
'Oh, yes, you would--you would cut off mine to-morrow. ' All this she
said vehemently, piercing him with her bright eyes. 'You would cut off
my head to-morrow,' she repeated, almost fiercely; 'I tell you you
would.
'
Her departure was always unexpected, her moods changed with so much
rapidity. 'Look! ' she said, pointing where the clock on St. Peter's
church showed above the bushes. 'Five minutes to five. In five minutes
my mother's tea-hour. It is like growing old. I go to gossip. Good-bye. '
The red feather shone for a moment among the bushes and was gone.
IV
The next day and the day after, Sherman was followed by those bright
eyes. When he opened a letter at his desk they seemed to gaze at him
from the open paper, and to watch him from the flies upon the ceiling.
He was even a worse clerk than usual.
One evening he said to his mother, 'Miss Leland has beautiful eyes. '
'My dear, she puts belladonna in them. '
'What a thing to say!
