Alfred, with
his mouth continually filled with bun, appeared fascinated by the cornet
player, from whom he seldom removed his eyes.
"What I want to know, Alfred Burton, is first how long this tomfoolery
is to last, and secondly what it all means?" Ellen began, with her
elbows upon the table and a reckless disregard of neighbors. "Haven't
we lived for ten years, husband and wife, at Clematis Villa, and you as
happy and satisfied with his home as a man could be? And now, all of a
sudden, comes this piece of business. Have you gone off your head?
Here are all the neighbors just wild with curiosity, and I knowing no
more what to say to them than the man in the moon."
"Is there any necessity to say anything to them?" Burton asked, a little
vaguely.
Ellen shook in her chair. A sham tortoise-shell hairpin dropped from
her untidy hair on to the floor with a little clatter. Her veil parted
at the top from her hat. Little Alfred, terrified by an angry frown
from the cornet player, was hastily returning fragments of partially
consumed bun to his plate. The air of the place was hot and
uncomfortable. Burton for a moment half closed his eyes. His whole
being was in passionate revolt.
"Any necessity?" Ellen repeated, half hysterically.
Pages:
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81