E-Books for you

"
The lovely Climene - and lovely indeed she was - tossed her
nut-brown curls and laughed as she looked across at Andre-Louis.
Her eyes, he had perceived by now, were not blue, but hazel.
"Do not believe him, monsieur. Here I am queen, and I prefer to
be queen here rather than a slave in Paris."
"Mademoiselle," said Andre-Louis, quite solemnly, "will be queen
wherever she condescends to reign."
Her only answer was a timid - timid and yet alluring - glance from
under fluttering lids. Meanwhile her father was bawling at the
comely young man who played lovers - "You hear, Leandre! That is
the sort of speech you should practise."
Leandre raised languid eyebrows. "That?" quoth he, and shrugged.
"The merest commonplace."
Andre-Louis laughed approval. "M. Leandre is of a readier wit than
you concede. There is subtlety in pronouncing it a commonplace to
call Mlle. Climene a queen."
Some laughed, M. Binet amongst them, with good-humoured mockery.
"You think he has the wit to mean it thus? Bah! His subtleties are
all unconscious.


Pages:
170 171 172 173 174 175 176 177 178 179 180 181 182 183 184 185 186 187 188 189 190 191 192 193 194