The Truant Spirit
“he said. “But I wasn’t really taunting you, Sabina—didn’t you like being kissed? All right, all right—I’m not going to do it again on the public highway.” She had backed away from him hastily, and as he finished speaking she lost her footing and fell into the ditch again.
He stood looking down at her without immediately offering to help her up. His annoyance seemed to have gone.
“You see? Pride goes before a fall,” he said. “That should teach you not to anticipate gestures of affection before t...hey happen to you.”
“Was it a—a gesture of affection?” she asked.
“What else?”
“I thought perhaps it was just—amusement.” “Oh, I see. Has my good preceptress been dropping timely hints?”
“Not in that way, but Marthe—”
“Oh, that coarse old trollop!”
She sat in the snow, blinking up at him shyly. With her long legs and smooth, rounded forehead she looked like a child who has taken an unexpected tumble, and he reached down to pull her up, this time with gentleness.MoreLess
He stood looking down at her without immediately offering to help her up. His annoyance seemed to have gone.
“You see? Pride goes before a fall,” he said. “That should teach you not to anticipate gestures of affection before t...hey happen to you.”
“Was it a—a gesture of affection?” she asked.
“What else?”
“I thought perhaps it was just—amusement.” “Oh, I see. Has my good preceptress been dropping timely hints?”
“Not in that way, but Marthe—”
“Oh, that coarse old trollop!”
She sat in the snow, blinking up at him shyly. With her long legs and smooth, rounded forehead she looked like a child who has taken an unexpected tumble, and he reached down to pull her up, this time with gentleness.MoreLess
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