Ярмарок марнославства

A Vagabond Chapter

           Hewaslikeamadmanlastnightwhenhecamehome.MadamedeBelladonnamadehimasceneaboutyouandfiredoffinoneofherfuries."

           "Oh,itwasMadamedeBelladonna,wasit?"Beckysaid,relievedalittle,fortheinformationshehadjustgothadscaredher.

           "Noshedoesnotmattersheisalwaysjealous.ItellyouitwasMonseigneur.Youdidwrongtoshowyourselftohim.Andifyoustayhereyouwillrepentit.Markmywords.Go.Hereismylord’scarriage"—andseizingBecky’sarm,herusheddownanalleyofthegardenasLordSteyne’sbarouche,blazingwithheraldicdevices,camewhirlingalongtheavenue,bornebythealmostpricelesshorses,andbearingMadamedeBelladonnalollingonthecushions,dark,sulky,andblooming,aKingCharlesinherlap,awhiteparasolswayingoverherhead,andoldSteynestretchedathersidewithalividfaceandghastlyeyes.Hate,oranger,ordesirecausedthemtobrightennowandthenstill,butordinarily,theygavenolight,andseemedtiredoflookingoutonaworldofwhichalmostallthepleasureandallthebestbeautyhadpalledupontheworn-outwickedoldman.

           "Monseigneurhasneverrecoveredtheshockofthatnight,never,"MonsieurFichewhisperedtoMrs.Crawleyasthecarriageflashedby,andshepeepedoutatitfrombehindtheshrubsthathidher."Thatwasaconsolationatanyrate,"Beckythought.

           WhethermylordreallyhadmurderousintentionstowardsMrs.

Налаштування
Фон сторінки
Розмір шрифту
Міжрядковий інтервал
Фразові дієслова
Показати / Приховати меню
Шрифт
Roboto Lora
Уведомления
Сторінка 1157 з 1227