Bunner Sisters. Edith Wharton
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Название: Bunner Sisters
Автор: Edith Wharton
Издательство: Bookwire
Жанр: Языкознание
isbn: 4057664653048
isbn:
“Well, ladies, dat clock's all right,” he pronounced.
“I'm sure we're very much obliged to you,” said Evelina, throwing a glance at her sister.
“Oh,” Ann Eliza murmured, involuntarily answering the admonition. She selected a key from the bunch that hung at her waist with her cutting-out scissors, and fitting it into the lock of the cupboard, brought out the cherry brandy and three old-fashioned glasses engraved with vine-wreaths.
“It's a very cold night,” she said, “and maybe you'd like a sip of this cordial. It was made a great while ago by our grandmother.”
“It looks fine,” said Mr. Ramy bowing, and Ann Eliza filled the glasses. In her own and Evelina's she poured only a few drops, but she filled their guest's to the brim. “My sister and I seldom take wine,” she explained.
With another bow, which included both his hostesses, Mr. Ramy drank off the cherry brandy and pronounced it excellent.
Evelina meanwhile, with an assumption of industry intended to put their guest at ease, had taken up her instruments and was twisting a rose-petal into shape.
“You make artificial flowers, I see, ma'am,” said Mr. Ramy with interest. “It's very pretty work. I had a lady-vriend in Shermany dat used to make flowers.” He put out a square finger-tip to touch the petal.
Evelina blushed a little. “You left Germany long ago, I suppose?”
“Dear me yes, a goot while ago. I was only ninedeen when I come to the States.”
After this the conversation dragged on intermittently till Mr. Ramy, peering about the room with the short-sighted glance of his race, said with an air of interest: “You're pleasantly fixed here; it looks real cosy.” The note of wistfulness in his voice was obscurely moving to Ann Eliza.
“Oh, we live very plainly,” said Evelina, with an affectation of grandeur deeply impressive to her sister. “We have very simple tastes.”
“You look real comfortable, anyhow,” said Mr. Ramy. His bulging eyes seemed to muster the details of the scene with a gentle envy. “I wisht I had as good a store; but I guess no blace seems home-like when you're always alone in it.”
For some minutes longer the conversation moved on at this desultory pace, and then Mr. Ramy, who had been obviously nerving himself for the difficult act of departure, took his leave with an abruptness which would have startled anyone used to the subtler gradations of intercourse. But to Ann Eliza and her sister there was nothing surprising in his abrupt retreat. The long-drawn agonies of preparing to leave, and the subsequent dumb plunge through the door, were so usual in their circle that they would have been as much embarrassed as Mr. Ramy if he had tried to put any fluency into his adieux.
After he had left both sisters remained silent for a while; then Evelina, laying aside her unfinished flower, said: “I'll go and lock up.”
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