“Look at these eyes—ah, fortunate man,” she continued, “most fortunate Vanka; he would let you touch him, close, near the heart, the skin. You could know what he looked like, how he stood, how his ankle went into his foot.” He ceased to hear her.
“And his shoulders, how they set. You dressed and undressed him, knew him, all of him, for many years—you see, you understand? Tell me, tell me what he was like!”
He turned to her. “I will tell you,” he said, “if you are still, if you will sit down, if you are quiet.”
She sat down with another sigh, with a touch of her old gaiety; she raised her eyes, watching him.
“His arms were too long, you could tell that—but beautiful, and his back was thin, tapering—full of breeding——”
TO THE DOGS
| Persons: | |
| Helena Hucksteppe | |
| Gheid Storm— | Her neighbour |
Time—Late afternoon.
Place—In the mountains of Cornwall-on-Hudson—the Hucksteppe house.
Scene—The inner room of the Hucksteppe cottage.