[AC3-general] hollowed in the middle with the worn ruts of a century of slow undevi

[Lillie <ci...@ia...>]

Shoulder. Then she drew back and seemed to take in the whole veranda and
garden in another long caress of her eyes. "Ah-yess! I have recognized
it, mooch. It es ze same. Of no change--not even of a leetle. No, she
ess always--esso." She stopped, looked unutterable things at Joan,
pressed her fan below a spray of roses on her full bodice as if to
indicate some thrilling memory beneath it, shook her head again,
suddenly caught sight of Demorest's serious face, said: "Ah, that
brigand of our husband laughs himself at me," and then herself broke
into a charming ripple of laughter. "But I was not laughing, Dona
Rosita," said Demorest, smiling sadly, however, in spite of himself. She
made a little grimace, and then raised her elbows, slightly lifting her
shoulders. "As it shall please you, Senor. But he is gone--thees
passion. Yess--what you shall call thees sentiment of lof--zo--as he
came!" She threw her fingers in the air as if to illustrate the volatile
and transitory passage of her affections, and then turned again to Joan
with her back towards Demorest. "Do please go on--Dona Rosita," said he,
"I never heard the real story. If there is any romance about my house,
I'd like to know it," he added with a faint sigh. Dona Rosita wheeled
upon him with an inquiring little look. "Ah, you have the sentiment, and
YOU," she continued, taking Joan by the arms, "YOU have not. Eet ess
good so. When a--the wife," she continued boldly, hazarding an extended
English abstraction, "he has the sentimente and the hoosband he has
nothing, eet is not good--for a-him--ze wife," she concluded
triumphantly. "But I have great appreciation and I am dying to hear it,"
said Demorest, trying to laugh. "Well, poor one, you look so. But you
shall lif till another time," said Dona Ro