Just hear how he is domineering!
These little song sparrows must surely be ladybirds--they are talking
back in such a saucy twitter. Can you hear them? I wish you could see
them. They are turning their pretty heads from side to side as much as
to say, that he can't keep them from speaking their minds if he does
keep them from getting the crumbs. Can you hear the silvery ripple of
their plaints? Nothing could be sweeter. There! I will raise the window
just a hair's breadth. Listen! Isn't it like a chime of fairy bells,
heard in a dream? But I hope you haven't felt any draught. It is much
colder than yesterday."
Dropping the sash she went to the fireplace and laid several sticks on
the blaze. She stood still for a moment, gazing down at the fire and
then she took a low chair beside the hearth. She knew that Paul Colbert
was looking at her, but she did not turn her head to meet his gaze. For
she also knew that he was merely biding his time, merely gathering
strength to speak, merely waiting till he had found words strong and
tender enough. If her eyes were to meet his, she must go to him--she
could not resist--and yet she felt that she must not go while her
plighted word was given to another man.
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