I’m like a creature just wakened up. ‘What are you after this time, miss?’ asked Jack. ‘Do you think I could endure to hear you prattling your abominable French in my ear day by day? Enough to drive me straight into my grave. ’ ‘And you believe her?’ asked Lucilla, raising her brows. I dared not sing, I dared not laugh, except when you went away. Were I a painter of subject pictures, I would exhaust all my skill in proportion and perspective and atmosphere upon the august seat of empire, I would present it gray and dignified and immense and respectable beyond any mere verbal description, and then, in vivid black and very small, I would put in those valiantly impertinent vans, squatting at the base of its altitudes and pouring out a swift, straggling rush of ominous little black objects, minute figures of determined women at war with the universe. The veranda bamboo will be enough for me.
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