[Mr. Isaacs by F. Marion Crawford]@TWC D-Link bookMr. Isaacs CHAPTER IV 9/23
As I looked, the hot blood mantled up to his brows.
She was watching him, and womanlike, seeing he was in earnest and embarrassed, she regained her perfect natural composure. "Oh, I had forgotten!" she said.
"I forgot about your wife in Delhi." She half turned in the hammock, and after some searching, during which we were silent, succeeded in finding a truant piece of worsted work behind her.
The wool was pulled out of the needle, and she held the steel instrument up against the light, as she doubled the worsted round the eye and pushed it back through the little slit.
I observed that Isaacs was apparently in a line with the light, and that the threading took some time. "Mr.Griggs," she said slowly, and by the very slowness of the address I knew she was going to talk to me, and at my friend, as women will; "Mr. Griggs, do you know anything about Mohammedans ?" "That is a very broad question," I answered; "almost as broad as the Mussulman creed." She began making stitches in the work she held, and with a little side shake settled herself to listen, anticipating a discourse.
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