"YOU won't be long any way, dear Auntie?" said Sylvia with a little sigh. "I don't half like your going. Couldn't you wait till the day after to-morrow?" Auntie hesitated--she glanced up at as much of the sky as could be seen through the lace-shrouded windows of their pretty Paris _salon_--it was already beginning to grow dusky, for though only half-past three, it was the thirty-first of December, and a dull day--and then turned with decision towards the door.…
Your support pays for translating these classics into more languages.
Support for $12/month DonateSubscribers read with instant translation, without waiting for the free daily limit.