The Imaginary Marriage by Henry St. John Cooper
page 19 of 327 (05%)
page 19 of 327 (05%)
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The rich aroma of an expensive cigar hung about the atmosphere of Mr.
Slotman's office. This and his clothes, and the large diamond ring that twinkled on his finger, proclaimed him a person of opulence. The door opened and a girl came in; she carried a notebook and her head very high. She trod like a young queen, and in spite of the poor black serge dress she wore, there was much of regal dignity about her. Dark brown hair that waved back from a broad and low forehead, a pair of lustrous eyes filled now with contempt and aversion, eyes shielded by lashes that, when she slept, lay like a silken fringe upon her cheeks. Her nose was redeemed from the purely classical by the merest suggestion of tip-tiltedness, that gave humour, expression and tenderness to the whole face--tenderness and sweetness that with strength was further betrayed by the finely cut, red-lipped mouth and the strong little chin, carried so proudly on the white column of her neck. Her figure was that of a young goddess, and a goddess she looked as she swept disdainfully into Mr. Philip Slotman's office, shorthand notebook in her hand. "I want you to take a letter to Jarvis and Purcell, Miss Meredyth," he said. "Please sit down. Er--hum--'Dear Sirs, With regard to your last communication received on the fourteenth instant, I beg--'" Mr. Slotman moved, apparently negligently, from his leather-covered armchair. He rose, he sauntered around the desk, then suddenly he flung off all pretence at lethargy, and with a quick step put himself between the girl and the door. "Now, my dear," he said, "you've got to listen to me!" |
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