The Winds of the World by Talbot Mundy
page 83 of 231 (35%)
page 83 of 231 (35%)
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the room so quickly that they were only aware of the jingling curtain.
So they sat down, Kirby trying the cushions with his foot until he found some firm enough to allow him to retain his dignity. Cavalry dress-trousers are not built to sprawl on cushions in; a man should sit reasonably upright or else stand. "I'll say this for myself," he grunted, as he settled into place, "it's the first time in my life I was ever inside a native woman's premises." Warrington did not commit himself to speech. They sat for five minutes looking about them, Warrington beginning to be bored, but Kirby honestly interested by the splendor of the hangings and the general atmosphere of Eastern luxury. It was Warrington who grew uneasy first. "Feel as if any one was lookin' at you, sir?" he asked out of one side of his mouth. And then Kirby noticed it, and felt his collar awkwardly. In all the world there is nothing so well calculated to sap a man's prepossession as the feeling that he is secretly observed. There was no sound, no movement, no sign of any one, and Warrington looked in the mirrors keenly while he pretended to be interested in his little mustache. Yet the sweat began to run down Colonel Kirby's temples, and he felt at his collar again to make sure that it stood upright. "Yes," he said, "I do. I'm going to get up and walk about." |
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