It would be strange without her, Maggie, I must
confess. You see, all our lives we've been together--all our lives."
Nevertheless he felt perhaps some relief, in spite of himself, when
they were safely in a train for Little Harben. It was rather a
relief, just for a day or two, not to see Grace's reproachful face.
Yes, it was. He was quite gay, almost like the boy he used to be.
Little Harben was one of the smallest villages in Wiltshire and its
Rectory one of the most dilapidated. The Rectory was sunk into the
very bottom of a green well. Green hills rose on every side above
it, green woods pressed in all around it, a wild, deserted green
garden crept up to the windows and clambered about the old walls.
There was hardly any furniture in the house, and many many windows
all without curtains. Long looking-glasses reflected the green
garden at every possible angle so that all the lights and shadows in
the house were green. There was a cat with green eyes, and the old
servant was so aged and infirm that she was, spiritually if not
physically, covered with green moss.
From their bedroom they could see the long green slope of the hill.
Pages:
682
683
684
685
686
687
688
689
690
691
692
693
694
695
696
697
698
699
700
701
702
703
704
705
706