Meet us on:
Welcome to Read Print! Sign in with
or
to get started!
 
Entire Site
    Try our fun game

    Dueling book covers…may the best design win!

    Random Quote
    "I don't believe in total freedom for the artist. Left on his own, free to do anything he likes, the artist ends up doing nothing at all. If there's one thing that's dangerous for an artist, it's precisely this question of total freedom, waiting for inspiration and all the rest of it."
    More: Art quotes
     

    Subscribe to Our Newsletter

    Follow us on Twitter

    Never miss a good book again! Follow Read Print on Twitter

    Chapter 36 - Page 2

    • Rate it:
    Launch Reading Mode Next Page
    Page 2 of 3
    Previous Page
    afternoon at Siena, he wondered? Did she ever think of it at all?... It
    was she who had asked Moffatt to dine. She had said: "Father brought
    him home one day at Apex.... I don't remember ever having seen him
    since"--and the man she spoke of had had her in his arms ... and perhaps
    it was really all she remembered!

    She had lied to him--lied to him from the first ... there hadn't been
    a moment when she hadn't lied to him, deliberately, ingeniously and
    inventively. As he thought of it, there came to him, for the first time
    in months, that overwhelming sense of her physical nearness which had
    once so haunted and tortured him. Her freshness, her fragrance, the
    luminous haze of her youth, filled the room with a mocking glory; and he
    dropped his head on his hands to shut it out....

    The vision was swept away by another wave of hurrying thoughts. He felt
    it was intensely important that he should keep the thread of every one
    of them, that they all represented things to be said or done, or guarded
    against; and his mind, with the unwondering versatility and tireless
    haste of the dreamer's brain, seemed to be pursuing them all
    simultaneously. Then they became as unreal and meaningless as the red
    specks dancing behind the lids against which he had pressed his fists
    clenched, and he had the feeling that if he opened his eyes they would
    vanish, and the familiar daylight look in on him....

    A knock disturbed him. The old parlour-maid who was always left in
    charge of the house had come up to ask if he wasn't well, and if there
    was anything she could do for him. He told her no ... he was perfectly
    well ... or, rather, no, he wasn't ... he supposed it must be the heat;
    and he began to scold her for having forgotten to close the shutters.

    It wasn't her fault, it appeared, but Eliza's: her tone implied that he
    knew what one had to expect of Eliza ... and wouldn't he go down to the
    nice cool shady dining-room, and let her make him an iced drink and a
    few sandwiches?

    "I've always told Mrs. Marvell I couldn't turn my back for a second
    but what Eliza'd find a way to make trouble," the old woman continued,
    evidently glad of the chance to air a perennial grievance. "It's not
    only the things she FORGETS to do," she added significantly; and it
    dawned on Ralph that she was making an appeal to him, expecting him to
    take sides with her in the chronic conflict between herself and Eliza.
    He said to himself that perhaps she was right ... that perhaps there was

    something he ought to do ... that his mother was old, and didn't always
    see things; and for a while his mind revolved this problem with feverish
    intensity....

    "Then you'll come down, sir?"

    "Yes."

    Next Page
    Page 2 of 3
    Previous Page
    If you're writing a Edith Wharton essay and need some advice, post your Edith Wharton essay question on our Facebook page where fellow bookworms are always glad to help!

    Top 5 Authors

    Top 5 Books

    Book Status
    Finished
    Want to read
    Abandoned

    Are you sure you want to leave this group?