'You'll
have made a song of Bismarck soon,' said he.
Mademoiselle waited, and discreetly made her inclination, and her
greeting.
'So they wouldn't let you see Bismarck, Mademoiselle?' he said.
'Non, Monsieur.'
'Ay, very mean of them. What are you going to do to him, Miss Brangwen?
I want him sent to the kitchen and cooked.'
'Oh no,' cried Winifred.
'We're going to draw him,' said Gudrun.
'Draw him and quarter him and dish him up,' he said, being purposely
fatuous.
'Oh no,' cried Winifred with emphasis, chuckling.
Gudrun detected the tang of mockery in him, and she looked up and
smiled into his face. He felt his nerves caressed. Their eyes met in
knowledge.
'How do you like Shortlands?' he asked.
'Oh, very much,' she said, with nonchalance.
'Glad you do. Have you noticed these flowers?'
He led her along the path. She followed intently. Winifred came, and
the governess lingered in the rear. They stopped before some veined
salpiglossis flowers.
'Aren't they wonderful?' she cried, looking at them absorbedly.
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