Under the deodars
Book Description
Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. This is an OCR edition with typos. Excerpt from book: MRS. HAUKSBEE SITS OUT PERSONS CHIEFLY INTERESTED His Excellency The Viceroy And Governor-general Of India. Charles Hilton Hawley (lieutenant at large). Lieutenant-colonel J. Scriffshaw (not so much at ...
MorePurchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. This is an OCR edition with typos. Excerpt from book: MRS. HAUKSBEE SITS OUT PERSONS CHIEFLY INTERESTED His Excellency The Viceroy And Governor-general Of India. Charles Hilton Hawley (lieutenant at large). Lieutenant-colonel J. Scriffshaw (not so much at large). Major Decker (a persuasive Irishman). Peroo (an Aryan butler). Mrs. Hauksbee (a lady with a will of her own). Mrs. Scriffshaw (a lady who believes she has a will of her own). May Holt (niece of the above). Assunta (an Aryan lady's-maid). Aidei-de- Camp, Dancers, Horses, and Devils as Required. MRS. HAUKSBEE SITS OUT AN UNHISTORICAL EXTRAVAGANZA Scine- Tbe imperial city of Simla, on a pine-dad mountain seven thousand feet above the level of the tea. Gray roofs of bouses peering through green ; white clouds going to bed in the valley below; purple clouds of sunset sitting on the peaks above. Smell of wood-smoke and pine-cones. A curtained verandah- room in Mrs. Hauksbee's bouse, overlooking Simla, shows Mrs. Hauksbee, in black cachemire tea-goton opening over cream front, seated in a red-cushioned chair, her foot on a Kbokand rug, Russian china tea-things on red lacquered table beneath red-shaded lamps. On a cushion at her feet, Miss Holt- gray riding-habit, soft gray felt terai hat, blue and gold puggree, buff gauntlets in lap, and glimpse of spurred riding-boot. They have been talking as the twilight gathers. Mrs. Hauksbee crosses over to piano in a natural pause of the conversation and begins to play. May. (Without changing her position?) Yes. That's nice. Play something. Mrs. H. What? May. Oh! anything. Only I don't want to hear about sighing over tombs, and saying Nevermore. Mrs. H. Have you ever known me do that? May, you're in one of your little tempers this afternoon. May. So would a Saint be. I've told you why. Horrid old ...
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