Crazy Radio eBooks

You
penetrate beneath the gray hairs as the prosaic never do. This butter
is delicious! And to think that there have been moments when I have
feared butter, when I have kept an eye upon a corpulent future. Give
me some more, plenty more."
Vere stretched out her hand to the tea-table, but it shook. She drew
it back, and burst into a peal of laughter.
"What are you laughing at?" said Artois, with burlesque majesty.
"At you. What's the matter with you, Monsieur Emile? How can you be so
foolish?"
She lay back in her chair, with her hair streaming about her, and her
thin body quivered, as if the sense of fun within her were striving to
break through its prison walls.
"This," said Artois, "this is sheer impertinence. I venture to inquire
for butter, and--"
"To inquire! One, two, three, four--five pats of butter right in front
of you! And you inquire--!"
Artois suddenly sent out a loud roar to join her childish treble.
The tea had swept away his previous sensation of fatigue, even the
happy stolidity that had succeeded it for an instant.


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