A silence had come over the party. The play was high
and the gamesters too absorbed to note anything but the game. From the
ball-room came the sound of violin, flute and harpsichord, shrieks of
shrill laughter, oaths from drunken wranglers and the continual thump of
feet.
Then the servants brought in coffee, extinguished the candles and drew
back the curtains.
"Good lord, we're more like a party of painted corpses than creatures of
flesh and blood," cried a lady with excessively rouged cheeks, bright
bird-like eyes and a long, thin hooked nose. "I declare positively I'll
play no more. Besides the luck's all one way, but 'tis not my fault. I
don't want to win every time."
"How generous--how thoughtful of your ladyship," sarcastically remarked
a handsome woman on the other side of the table.
"What do you mean, madam?" fiercely inquired the first speaker who was
now standing.
"Oh, nothing madam," was the retort accompanied by a curtsey of mock
humility. "Everybody knows Lady Anastasia's pleasant way of drawing off
when she has won and the luck's beginning to turn against her."
"I despise your insinuations madam," loftily replied Lady Anastasia, her
face where it was not rouged turning the colour of putty. "So common a
creature as Mistress Salisbury--I prefer not to soil my lips by
addressing you as _Sally_ Salisbury--I think that is the name by which
you are best known among the Cheapside 'prentices and my lord's
lackeys--ought to feel vastly honoured by being permitted to sit at the
same table with a woman of my rank.
Pages:
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181