DOI article:
King, K. Douglas: Lucretia
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.26393#0233
229
By K. Douglas King
lean against the gatepost, apparently unconscious of her surround-
ings. Molly detested Caldwell. It was this lovely, dirty, pic-
turesque child who used to set her small brothers and sisters,
armed with stones and dirt, on the assistant superintendent. Tiny
arms and the strict necessity of cloaking their tactics by a stout
hedge made the stones of no effect. Molly had the supreme
pleasure, once, of seeing a piece of mud, aimed by her with
feminine precision, stick to the back of his coat. She tried to
bully her little brother, “Jack Spratt ” Burnett, into piping rude
remarks at him when they used to go down to the line, with the
other East-town children, to watch operations there. To these
heroic heights, however, Jack Spratt could not ascend. He had
the pacific spirit; and when Molly called him a “bloomin’ sheep,”
neither resented the slur on his manhood with retort nor sought
to efface it by action.
Molly’s large shining eyes were fixed on the crimson cloudland
on the northern horizon. She looked inexpressibly lovely. Cald-
well shot a keener glance at her.
“ Good-night, Molly,” he called down, to the slim, motionless,
little figure.
Mrs. Burnett’s nine-year-old daughter stonily turned her eyes
upon the man. There was a magnificent disdain in their pellucid
depths. She raised her shoulders ever so slightly ; beyond the
cold movement and that colder stare she made no response.
“ By Jove ! ” muttered Caldwell, genuine admiration leaping
hotly out of his eyes. “ What a lovely woman the hussy will be
in ten years’ time ! ”
With a gay laugh, he bent forward, of a sudden, and thrust his
moustached lips upon Molly’s. Although she was taken com-
pletely by surprise, her defensive action was swifter than his
attack. She ducked, and his mouth barely avoided sharp contact
The Yellow Book—Vol. X. o with
By K. Douglas King
lean against the gatepost, apparently unconscious of her surround-
ings. Molly detested Caldwell. It was this lovely, dirty, pic-
turesque child who used to set her small brothers and sisters,
armed with stones and dirt, on the assistant superintendent. Tiny
arms and the strict necessity of cloaking their tactics by a stout
hedge made the stones of no effect. Molly had the supreme
pleasure, once, of seeing a piece of mud, aimed by her with
feminine precision, stick to the back of his coat. She tried to
bully her little brother, “Jack Spratt ” Burnett, into piping rude
remarks at him when they used to go down to the line, with the
other East-town children, to watch operations there. To these
heroic heights, however, Jack Spratt could not ascend. He had
the pacific spirit; and when Molly called him a “bloomin’ sheep,”
neither resented the slur on his manhood with retort nor sought
to efface it by action.
Molly’s large shining eyes were fixed on the crimson cloudland
on the northern horizon. She looked inexpressibly lovely. Cald-
well shot a keener glance at her.
“ Good-night, Molly,” he called down, to the slim, motionless,
little figure.
Mrs. Burnett’s nine-year-old daughter stonily turned her eyes
upon the man. There was a magnificent disdain in their pellucid
depths. She raised her shoulders ever so slightly ; beyond the
cold movement and that colder stare she made no response.
“ By Jove ! ” muttered Caldwell, genuine admiration leaping
hotly out of his eyes. “ What a lovely woman the hussy will be
in ten years’ time ! ”
With a gay laugh, he bent forward, of a sudden, and thrust his
moustached lips upon Molly’s. Although she was taken com-
pletely by surprise, her defensive action was swifter than his
attack. She ducked, and his mouth barely avoided sharp contact
The Yellow Book—Vol. X. o with