The Ebony Frame

Fiction & Literature, Anthologies, Classics
Cover of the book The Ebony Frame by Edith Nesbit, AB Books
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Author: Edith Nesbit ISBN: 9782291006695
Publisher: AB Books Publication: March 20, 2018
Imprint: Language: English
Author: Edith Nesbit
ISBN: 9782291006695
Publisher: AB Books
Publication: March 20, 2018
Imprint:
Language: English

"""Oh! my dear, my dear, how shall I pass the hours till I hold you again?"" No thought, then, of my whole life's completion and consummation being a dream. I staggered up to my room, fell across my bed, and slept heavily and dreamlessly. When I awoke it was high noon. Mildred and her mother were coming to lunch. I remembered, at one o'clock, Mildred coming and her existence. Now indeed the dream began. With a penetrating sense of the futility of any action apart from her, I gave the necessary orders for the reception of my guests. When Mildred and her mother came I received them with cordiality; but my genial phrases all seemed to be someone else's. My voice sounded like an echo; my heart was not there. Still, the situation was not intolerable, until the hour when afternoon tea was served in the drawing-room. Mildred and mother kept the conversational pot boiling with"

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"""Oh! my dear, my dear, how shall I pass the hours till I hold you again?"" No thought, then, of my whole life's completion and consummation being a dream. I staggered up to my room, fell across my bed, and slept heavily and dreamlessly. When I awoke it was high noon. Mildred and her mother were coming to lunch. I remembered, at one o'clock, Mildred coming and her existence. Now indeed the dream began. With a penetrating sense of the futility of any action apart from her, I gave the necessary orders for the reception of my guests. When Mildred and her mother came I received them with cordiality; but my genial phrases all seemed to be someone else's. My voice sounded like an echo; my heart was not there. Still, the situation was not intolerable, until the hour when afternoon tea was served in the drawing-room. Mildred and mother kept the conversational pot boiling with"

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