Біла пташка

Her Marriage, Her Clothes, Her Appetite, and an Inventory of Her Furniture

           

           “Didshebuildthestudiowithherownhands?”

           No,buthowshehadalteredit.

           “Howshealterseverything,”Isaid.“Doyouthinkyouaresafe,ma’am?”

           Shethawedalittleundermyobvioussympathyandhonouredmewithsomeofherviewsandconfidences.TherentalpaidbyMaryandherhusbandwasnot,itappeared,oneonwhichanyself-respectingdomesticcouldreflectwithpride.Theygotthehouseverycheapontheunderstandingthattheyweretovacateitpromptlyifanyoneboughtitforbuildingpurposes,andbecausetheypaidsolittletheyhadtosubmittotheindignityofthenotice-board.MaryAdetestedthewords“Thisspacetobesold,”andhadbeenknowntoshakeherfistatthem.Shewasaselatedaboutherhouseasifitwerearealhouse,andalwaystrembledwhenanypossiblepurchaserofspacescalled.

           AsIhavetoldyoumyownaphorismIfeelIoughtinfairnesstorecordthatofthisaggrievedservant.Itwasonthesubjectofart.“Thedifficulty,”shesaid,“isnottopaintpictures,buttogetframesforthem.”Ahomethrustthis.

           Shecouldnothonestlysaythatshethoughtmuchofhermaster’swork.Nor,apparently,didanyotherperson.Result,tinnedmeats.

           Yes,onepersonthoughtadealofit,orpretendedtodoso;wasconstantlyflingingupherhandsindelightoverit;hadevenbeencaughtwhisperingfiercelytoafriend,“Praiseit,praiseit,praiseit!”Thiswaswhenthepainterwassunkingloom.Never,asIcouldwellbelieve,wassuchaoneasMaryforluringamanbacktocheerfulness.

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Roboto Lora
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