Don Orsino by F. Marion (Francis Marion) Crawford
page 49 of 574 (08%)
page 49 of 574 (08%)
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"Of course. But what in the world does Gouache want of it? Is he
painting you in skins--the primeval youth of the forest?" "No--not exactly. The fact is, there is a lady there. Gouache talks of painting her as a modern Omphale, with a tiger's skin and a cast of Hercules in the background--" "Hercules wore a lion's skin--not a tiger's. He killed the Nemean lion." "Did he?" inquired Orsino indifferently. "It is all the same--they do not know it, and they want a tiger. When I left they were debating whether they wanted it alive or dead. I thought of buying one at the Prati di Castello, but it seemed cheaper to borrow the skin of you. May I take it?" Sant' Ilario laughed. Orsino rolled up the great hide and carried it to the door. "Who is the lady, my boy?" "I never saw her before--a certain Donna Maria d'Aranjuez d'Aragona. I fancy she must be a kind of cousin. Do you know anything about her?" "I never heard of such a person. Is that her own name?" "No--she seems to be somebody's widow." "That is definite. What is she like?" "Passably handsome--yellow eyes, reddish hair, one eye wanders." |
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