Philip noticed that about each
of the dueling pistols was tied a bow of ribbon, dull and faded,
as though the passing of generations had robbed them of beauty and
color, to be replaced by the somberness of age.
During the meal Philip could not but observe that Jeanne was
laboring under some mysterious strain. Her cheeks were brilliantly
flushed, and her eyes were filled with a lustrous brightness that
he had never seen in them before. Their beauty was almost
feverish. Several times he caught a strange little tremor of her
white shoulders, as though a sudden chill had passed through her.
He discovered, too, that Pierre was observing these things, and
that there was something forced in the half-breed's cheerfulness.
But D'Arcambal and Otille seemed completely oblivious of any
change. Their happiness overflowed. Philip thought of his last
supper at Churchill, with Eileen Brokaw and her father. Miss
Brokaw had acted strangely then, and had struggled to hide some
secret grief or excitement, as Jeanne was struggling now.
He was glad when the meal was finished, and the master of Fort o'
God rose from his seat. At D'Arcambal's movement his eyes caught
Jeanne's, and then he saw that Pierre was looking sharply at him.
Pages:
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231