Sven digital books

Parkman choked a little over his wine, the tightening in Ernestine's
throat made it hard for her with hers, Georgia's cheeks were burning with
enthusiasm for the story she saw now she could write, and even Mrs.
McCormick had no questions as to just what men had died that way. Then it
was Karl himself who abruptly turned the conversation to the more shallow
channels of dinner talk.
After that he was not unlike a man who had had a little too much
champagne. He startled them with the nimbleness of his wit, the light
play of his fancy. It was as though he had a new vocabulary, a lighter
one than was commonly his. There was a sort of delicate frolicsomeness in
his thought.
For a reason unknown to her, it troubled Ernestine. She looked from Karl
to Dr. Parkman, but the doctor had that impenetrable look of his. What
was the matter with him? He had talked so freely during the early part of
the dinner, and now he seemed to have dropped out of it entirely. She
caught him looking at Karl once; the keen, narrow gaze of physician to
patient.


Pages:
122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144 145 146