|
||||||
|
|
||||||
|
Book, page 131 / 201 'Let's have a wet first,' said the sergeant. The woman bustled about getting the drinks. The soldiers moved to the fire, spreading out their hands. 'Have your suppers in here, will you?' she said. 'Or in the kitchen?' 'Let's have it here,' said the sergeant. 'More cosier--_if_ you don't mind.' 'You shall have it where you like, boys, where you like.' She disappeared. In a minute a girl of about sixteen came in. She was tall and fresh, with dark, young, expressionless eyes, and well-drawn brows, and the immature softness and mindlessness of the sensuous Celtic type. 'Ho, Maryann! Evenin', Maryann! How's Maryann, now?' came the multiple greeting. She replied to everybody in a soft voice, a strange, soft _aplomb_ that was very attractive. And she moved round with rather mechanical, attractive movements, as if her thoughts were elsewhere. But she had always this dim far-awayness in her bearing: a sort of modesty. The strange man by the fire watched her curiously. There was an alert, inquisitive, mindless curiosity on his well-coloured face. 'I'll have a bit of supper with you, if I might,' he said. She looked at him, with her clear, unreasoning eyes, just like the eyes of some non-human creature. 'I'll ask mother,' she said. Her voice was soft-breathing, gently singsong. When she came in again: 'Yes,' she said, almost whispering. 'What will you have?' 'What have you got?' he said, looking up into her face.
|
Knowledgerush Search
|
|
Contact Us
| Privacy Statement & Terms of Use
|