鈥淭o ask you, my dear Corinna,鈥?replied Fortinbras, in his persuasive tones, 鈥渨hy you have disregarded my advice?鈥? She also ate the unaccustomed bread of idleness. Had her aunt permitted, she would delightedly have helped with the house-work. But Madame Robineau, widow of a dealer in grain who, before his death, had retired on a comfortable fortune, lived, according to her lights, at her ease, her wants being scrupulously administered to by a cook and a maid. There was no place in the domestic machine for F茅lise. Her aunt passed long chilly hours over ecclesiastical embroidery, sitting bolt upright in her chair with a chaufferette beneath her feet. F茅lise, unaccustomed needlewoman, passed longer and chillier hours (having no chaufferette) either playing with a grey ascetic cat or reading aloud La Croix, the only newspaper allowed to cross the threshold of the house. Now and again, Madame Robineau would drop her thin hands into her lap and regard her disapprovingly. One day she said, interrupting the reading, 超碰caoporen97人人,光棍影院手机在线观看 "It is a dream," she went on. "I seem to be alone, crossing the fields鈥攊t is at the country estate where we spent our honeymoon. I see a figure ahead of me. It is Vail. But each time that I get close to him鈥攈e has disappeared into the forest that skirts the field." Few men can bear to see a woman in tears, and it was too much for George.