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‘Don’t even think of it,’ warned Gerald, in the voice generally reserved for his men. She feared he might take her tears as a sign of weakness. She reached a tiny yellow-fronted cottage covered with flowering creepers, and entered the front room by the wide-open window. Instead of English villas and cottages there were chalets and Italian-built houses shining white; there were lakes of emerald and sapphire and clustering castles, and such sweeps of hill and mountain, such shining uplands of snow, as she had never seen before. “I am afraid,” he said gravely, “that your sister has been a little indiscreet. Borne in the arms of a couple of assistants, and preceded by Mrs. Smith, now, being more than half-seas over, became very uproarious, and, claiming the attention of the table, volunteered the following DRINKING SONG.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 01-10-2024 12:42:46