ected secretary. Moreover, the production of a play had been discussed, a pink muslin drama suited
to the susceptibilities of the Anglican public. The part of heroine had been offered, not unanimously, to Mrs. Betty. And with 深圳桑拿按摩照片 a becoming spirit of diffidence she had accepted the honor, when pressed most graciously by the Lady Sophia’s own prosings.
Mrs. Betty might have impersonated April as she swept homeward under the high beneficence of St. Antonia’s elms. The warmth of worldly well-being plumps out a woman’s comeliness. She expands and ripens in the sun of prosperity and praise, in contrast to the thousands of the ever-contriving poor, whose sordid faces are but the reflection of sordid facts.
Betty Steel’s 深圳桑拿按摩价格表 face had an April alluringness that day; its outlines were soft and beautiful, suggestive of the delicacy of apple bloom seen through morning mist. She was exceeding well content with life, was Mrs. Betty, for her husband was in a position to write generous checks, and the people of Roxton seemed ready to pay her homage.
Parker Steel was reading in the dining-room when this triumphant and 深圳按摩休闲会所资料 happy lady came in like a white flower rising from a sheath of green. It was only when selfishly elated that the wife showed any flow of affection for her 深圳按摩项目介绍husband. For the once she had the air of an enthusiastic girl whom marriage had not robbed of her ideals.
“Dear old Parker—”
She went towards him with an out-stretching of the hands, as he dropped the Morning Post, and half rose from the lounge chair.
“Had a good time?”
She swooped towards him, not noticing the furtive yet watchful expression in her husband’s face.
“Give me a kiss, old Morning Post.”
“How is Madam Sophia?”
Parker Steel had caught her out-stretched hands. It was as though he were afraid of touching his wife’s lips.
“Making conquests, eh?”
“Waal—I guess that”—and she spoke through her nose.
“Enticing them into the family pocket.”
Something in her husband’s eyes touched Betty Steel beneath her vivacity and 深圳按摩推荐 easy persiflage. Her husband had risen from his chair, 深圳桑拿蒲友 released her hands, and moved away towards the fire. She had a sudden instinct telling her that he was not glad of her return.
The wife’s airiness was damped instantly. Parker Steel had repelled her with the semi-playful air of a man not wishing to be bothered. She had
noticed this suggestion of aloofness much in him of late, and had ascribed it to irritability, the result of overwork.
“Anything the matter, dear?”
He looked at her frankly, with arched brows and open eyes.
“Yes, you seem tired—”
“There is some excuse for me. This is the first ten minutes I have had to myself—all day. It is an effort to talk when one’s tongue has been going for hours.”
His wife’s face appeared a little triste and peevish. She glanced at herself in the mirror over the mantel-piece, and found herself wondering why life seemed composed of 深圳桑拿女一条龙图片 actions and reactions.
“Have you had tea?”
“No, I waited,” and he turned and rang the bell with a feeling of relief. It was trying to his 深圳按摩技师 watchfulness for Parker Steel to be left alone with his own wife. Even the white cap of the parlor-maid
was welcome to him, or the flimsiest barrier that could aid him in his ordeal of silent self-isolation. The art of hypocrisy grows more complex with each new statement of relationships. And hypocrisy in the home is the reguilding of a substance that tarnishes with every day. The wear and tear of life erase the lying 深圳按摩网 surface, and the daily daubing becomes a habit by necessity, even as a single dying of the hair pledges the vain mortal to perpetual self-decoration.
There were many men in Wilton who had looked at their children’s graves, little banks of green turf ranged on the hill-按摩深圳桑拿全套 side where the winds wailed in winter like the mythical spirits of the damned. A gaunt, graceless place, this cemetery, a p