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137
The Solitary Summer
·
Elizabeth Von Arnim
127
Not
once
during
those
three
days
did
he
respond
to
my
pressing
entreaties
to
go
and
lie
down,
and
not
all
the
desperate
eloquence
of
a
woman
at
her
wit's
end
could
persuade
him
that
he
was
very
tired
and
ought
to
try
and
get
some
sleep.
I
had
intended
to
be
out
when
he
arrived,
and
to
remain
out
till
dinner
time,
but
he
came
unexpectedly
early,
while
the
babies
and
I
were
still
at
lunch,
the
door
opening
to
admit
the
most
beautiful
specimen
of
his
class
that
I
have
ever
seen,
so
beautiful
indeed
in
his
white
uniform
that
the
babies
took
him
for
an
angel--visitant
of
the
type
that
visited
Abraham
and
Sarah,
and
began
in
whispers
to
argue
about
wings.
He
was
not
in
the
least
tired
after
his
long
ride
he
told
me,
in
reply
to
my
anxious
inquiries,
and,
rising
to
the
occasion,
at
once
plunged
into
conversation,
evidently
realising
how
peculiarly
awful
prolonged
pauses
under
the
circumstances
would
be.
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