Dante Gabriel Rossetti Venus Verticordia paintingJohannes Vermeer The Guitar Player paintingJules Joseph Lefebvre Fleurs des Champs painting
interesting; at any rate he would be pleased to set them forth to me that evening-assuming, of course. . .
But the assumption was left unmade, for there hove into sight just then a bicycle, and Lady Creamhair. My heart drew up: I had not expected her until evening. Had she then come to some resolve of her own, that she drove up full in Max's view? But I was reckoning without her nearsightedness: she peered and craned all the way along the fence; not until she was abreast of the pound did she seem to catch sight of us together, whereupon she ducked her head and pedaled on towards the grove of hemlocks.
Max thrust five fingers into his beard. "By George, now. . ."
I declared uncomfortably that I had no idea why the woman had come out so early, but I guessed she had the right to drive past whenever she pleased.
"Na, bah," Max said, "I didn't mean that. Thunder and lightning, though, if something doesn't wonder me. . ." He touched my shoulder, frowning and blinking. "She's waiting now for you, eh?"
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