A slate had fallen down the chimneyThe great...
A slate had fallen down the chimneyThe great log had snapped in twoFlakes of plaster fell from the shield above the fireplace "Falling," old Miss Rashleigh chuckled "And who," said Miss Antonia, looking at the flakes on the carpet, "who's to pay?" Crowing like old babies, indifferent, reckless, they laughed; crossed to the fireplace, and sipped the sherry by the wood ashes and the plaster, until each glass held only one drop of wine, reddish purple, at the bottomAnd this the old women did not wish to part with, so it seemed; for they fingered their glasses, as they sat side by side by the ashes; but they never raised them to their omega quartz lips "Milly Masters in the still room," began old Miss Rashleigh"She's our brother's A shot barked beneath the windowIt cut the string that held the rain Down it poured, down, down, down, in straight rods whipping the windows Light faded from the carpetLight faded in their eyes, too, as they sat by the white ashes listeningTheir eyes became like pebbles, taken from water; grey stones dulled and driedAnd their hands gripped their hands like the claws of dead birds gripping nothingAnd they shrivelled as if the bodies inside the clothes had shrunk Then Miss Antonia raised her glass to the mermaidIt was the last drop; she drank it off"Coming!" she croaked, rolex watches ladies and slapped the glass downFeet could be heard trampling, yet shuffling, along the corridor towards the gallery "Closer! Closer!" grinned Miss Rashleigh, baring her three yellow teeth The immensely high door burst openIn rushed three great hounds and stood pantingThen there entered, slouching, the Squire himself in shabby gaitersThe dogs pressed round him, tossing their heads, snuffling at his pocketsThen they bounded forwardThe floor of the gallery waved like a windlashed forest with the tails and backs of the great questing houndsThey snuffed the table They pawed the clothThen, with a wild neighing whimper, they flung themselves upon the little balenciaga twiggy yellow spaniel who was gnawing the carcass under the table "Curse you, curse you!" howled the SquireBut his voice was weak, as if he shouted against a wind"Curse you, curse you!" he shouted, now cursing his sisters Miss Antonia and Miss Rashleigh rose to their feetThe great dogs had seized the spanielThey worried him, they mauled him with their great yellow teethThe Squire swung a leather knotted tawse this way and that way, cursing the dogs, cursing his sisters, in the voice that sounded so loud yet so weakWith one lash he curled to the ground the vase of chrysanthemumsAnother caught old Miss Rashleigh on the cheekThe old woman staggered sac hermes kelly backwardsShe fell against the mantelpieceHer stick, striking wildly, struck the shield above the fireplaceShe fell with a thud upon the ashesThe shield of the Rashleighs crashed from the wall Under the mermaid, under the spears, she lay buried The wind lashed the panes of glass; shots volleyed in the Park and a tree fellAnd then King Edward, in the silver frame, slid, toppled, and fell too The grey mist had thickened in the carriageIt hung down like a veil; it seemed to put the four travellers in the corners at a great distance from each other, though in fact they were as close as a third class railway carriage could bring themThe effect was gucci new bag strangNo comments:
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