She was like a vision of the spring
so eagerly awaited by these prisoners of winter. Her frock, which fell
to her ankles, was of some white, silky, soft material and was deeply
bordered with silver; her sleeves were of silver and there was a touch
of silver on the bodice. Her emeralds gleamed like green fire against
her bare white throat and as she danced a froth of rose-colored
petticoat was visible, foaming above her ankles.
To all those eager, watching people Pearl seemed truly the incarnation
of May in all its glory and shimmer, and Hughie's music was like the
silver, fluting notes of her insistent heralds proclaiming the south
wind, and bird calls and murmuring rivulets of melting snow. And when
she ceased and they finally permitted her to withdraw before dancing
again it was almost with a shock that they realized that the snow was
still falling outside.
It was then that Bob Flick turned at last to his two companions. "You've
seen?" was his brief, low-voiced comment. Both men nodded.
"Every deputy in the county here," said Seagreave in as low a voice as
the one Flick had used. "No exits for us anywhere. The sheriff has them
well stationed."
"Thank God, I came," muttered Gallito, "but I wish we knew their plan."
"That's easy," said Flick. "Hanson's so sure that he's won the game
before it's played that he's ready to tell any one that will listen to
him how it all happened, before it's begun. I guess I'll go over and
talk to him a little before Pearl comes on again.
Pages:
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230