SEARCH
0-9 A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Prev | Current Page 223 | Next

Walpole, Hugh, Sir, 1884-1941

"The Golden Scarecrow"

She
had "got" Mary for ever. She was suddenly conscious that she despised
Mary, and had lost all interest in her. She didn't want the ring, nor
did she ever wish to see Mary again.
She gazed about the garden, shrugged her thin, little, bony shoulders as
though she were fifty at least, and felt tired and dull, as on the day
after a party. She stood and looked at Mary and her nurse; when she saw
them walk away she did not move, but stayed there, staring after them.
She was greatly disappointed; she did not feel any pleasure at having
forced Mary to obey her, but would have liked to have smacked and bitten
her, could these violent actions have driven her into speech. In some
undetermined way Mary's silence had beaten Sarah. Mary was a stupid,
silly little girl, and Sarah despised and scorned her, but, somehow,
that was not enough; from all of this, it simply remained that Sarah
would like now to forget her, and could not. What did the silly little
thing mean by looking like that? "She'll go and hug her Alice and cry
over it." If only she had cried in front of Sarah that would have been
something.


Pages:
211 212 213 214 215 216 217 218 219 220 221 222 223 224 225 226 227 228 229 230 231 232 233 234 235