Сестра Керри

Chapter VIII. Intimations By Winter: An Ambassador Summoned

           

           “Say,thatfitslikeaT,don’tit?”heremarked,feelingthesetofitatthewaistandeyeingitfromafewpaceswithrealpleasure.“Whatyouneednowisanewskirt.Let’sgotobreakfast.”

           Carrieputonherhat.

           “Wherearethegloves?”heinquired.

           “Here,”shesaid,takingthemoutofthebureaudrawer.

           “Now,comeon,”hesaid.

           Thusthefirsthourofmisgivingwassweptaway.

           Itwentthiswayoneveryoccasion.Drouetdidnotleavehermuchalone.Shehadtimeforsomelonewanderings,butmostlyhefilledherhourswithsight-seeing.AtCarson,Pirie’sheboughtheraniceskirtandshirtwaist.Withhismoneyshepurchasedthelittlenecessariesoftoilet,untilatlastshelookedquiteanothermaiden.Themirrorconvincedherofafewthingswhichshehadlongbelieved.Shewaspretty,yes,indeed!Howniceherhatset,andweren’thereyespretty.Shecaughtherlittleredlipwithherteethandfeltherfirstthrillofpower.Drouetwassogood.

           Theywenttosee“TheMikado”oneevening,anoperawhichwashilariouslypopularatthattime.Beforegoing,theymadeofffortheWindsordining-room,whichwasinDearbornStreet,aconsiderabledistancefromCarrie’sroom.Itwasblowingupcold,andoutofherwindowCarriecouldseethewesternsky,stillpinkwiththefadinglight,butsteelyblueatthetopwhereitmetthedarkness.Along,thincloudofpinkhunginmidair,shapedlikesomeislandinafar-offsea.

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