 Posted: Mon 11:27, 21 Feb 2011 Post subject: On the Makaloa Mat LondonJack Published bbaabceh |
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winking on her gloved hand. I longed so much to spit some venom at her that I had to bite the tip of my tongueto make myself smile s louboutin spiked pumpweetly at herand step back as her father and her brother escorted her through the great doors to her apartments—the apartments of the king’s favorite. My father and my mother followed the Seymoursin their train. I waited for them to ask me how Anne wasbut they passed me with no more than a nod. “Anne is well” I volunteeredas my mother went by. “Good” she said coolly. “Will you not come to wait on her?” Her face was as blank as a barren woman. It was as if none of us had ever been born to her. “I will visit her when the king goes to her rooms” she said. I knew then that Anne and George and I were on our own. The ladies returned to Anne’s room like a flock of buzzardsuncertain where the best pickings were to be had. I notedwith bitter amusementthe crisis in headgear which Anne’s confident return had caused. Some of them went back to French hoods which Anne continued to wear. Some of them stayed in the heavy gable hoods which Jane favored. All of them were desperate to know whether they should be in the queen’s beautiful apartment or over the way with the Seymours. Where |
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