Snowdrops from a Curate’s Garden

[87] wretch ! To tell me about travail and labour and that rubbish-besides, a really nice God would keep his smoking-room jokes to himself another time. And the brute never made love either. I’ll be even with him one day. I do wish this hole wouldn’t itch. Rubbing’s no good-oh ! It’s better when I rub hard. There ! It’s started again now I’ve left off. I’ll rub harder this time. Ah ! Adam ! Adam ! — Ha ! I thought I was with Adam — Oh, how lovely ! ” And she gave a delicious little sigh. “ Pardon this intrusion, Duchess, pray ” said a new voice, in the well-bred deferential manner that is so characteristic of diplomats. “ But is it the third Wednesday, is it not ? ” “ My dear Prince, how good of you to come. I was just hoping some one would drop in and cheer me up. This move has left me quite a wreck.” “ Ah ! Duchess, you are more beautiful than ever.” “ Bad man — ” “ Yes, and deserve a better husband.” “ Adam is as good as — ” “ But his poor health. He’s had a cold ever since he left Eden, this climate is so terribly uncer- tain.” “ Yes, he’s not very strong, poor man.” “ He gets tired easily.” “ Yes ” with a sigh. “ I see you have been doing your best to supply his place.” For Eve had not changed her position during this interview, and her moist fingers still played among the golden hair. “ Oh ! I didn’t mean to.” “ Ah ! Duchess, what a pity — and what a sur- prise ! ” “ Yes, it did feel like it. But really, Prince, you’re as inquisitive as that rude old Lord God.” “ You are not offended with me ? ”