But again, it was a troubling kind of paleness, and I was glad to cover her up. I tidied her gown back into the press and jammed closed the door. She sat and waited, yawning, for me to come and brush her hair.
Her hair was good, and very long let down. I brushed it, and held it, and thought what it might fetch.→本→作→品→由→思→兔→在→線→閱→讀→網→友→整→理→上→傳→
''What are you thinking of?'' she said, her eyes on mine in the glass. ''Of your old mistress? Was her hair handsomer?''
''Her hair was very poor,'' I said. And then, feeling sorry for Lady Alice: ''But she walked well.'' ''Do I walk well?'' ''You do, miss.''
She did. Her feet were small, her ankles slender like her waist. She smiled. As she had with our heads, she made me put my foot beside hers, to compare them.
''Yours is almost as neat,'' she said kindly.
She got into her bed. She said she didn''t care to lie in darkness. She had a rush-light in a tin shade kept beside her pillow, the kind old misers use, and she made me light it from the flame of my candle; and she wouldn''t let me tie the curtains of her bed, but had me pull them only a little way shut, so that she might see into the room beyond.
''And you will not, will you, quite close your door?'' she said. ''Agnes never used to. I didn''t like it, before yo