The Money Moon eBook

Jeffery Farnol
This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 250 pages of information about The Money Moon.

The Money Moon eBook

Jeffery Farnol
This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 250 pages of information about The Money Moon.

Meanwhile, George Bellew, American Citizen, and millionaire, lay upon the broad of his back, staring up at the cloudless blue above, and despite heart break, and a certain Haunting Shadow, felt singularly content, which feeling he was at some pains with himself to account for.

“It’s the exercise,” said he, speaking his thought aloud, as he stretched luxuriously upon his soft, and fragrant couch, “after all, there is nothing like a little exercise.”

“That’s what they all say!” nodded the Waggoner.  “But I notice as them as says it, ain’t over fond o’ doing of it,—­they mostly prefers to lie on their backs, an’ talk about it,—­like yourself.”

“Hum!” said Bellew, “ha!  ’Some are born to exercise, some achieve exercise, and some, like myself, have exercise thrust upon them.’  But, anyway, it is a very excellent thing,—­more especially if one is affected with a—­er—­broken heart.”

“A w’ot?” enquired the Waggoner.

“Blighted affections, then,” sighed Bellew, settling himself more comfortably in the hay.

“You aren’t ’inting at—­love, are ye?” enquired the Waggoner cocking a somewhat sheepish eye at him.

“I was, but, just at present,” and here Bellew lowered his voice, “it is a—­er—­rather painful subject with me,—­let us, therefore, talk of something else.”

“You don’t mean to say as your ’eart’s broke, do ye?” enquired the Waggoner in a tone of such vast surprise and disbelief, that Bellew turned, and propped himself on an indignant elbow.

“And why the deuce not?” he retorted, “my heart is no more impervious than anyone else’s,—­confound it!”

“But,” said the Waggoner, “you ain’t got the look of a ’eart-broke cove, no more than Squire Cassilis,—­which the same I heard telling Miss Anthea as ’is ’eart were broke, no later than yesterday, at two o’clock in the arternoon, as ever was.”

“Anthea!” repeated Bellew, blinking drowsily up at the sky again, “that is a very quaint name, and very pretty.”

“Pretty,—­ah,—­an’ so’s Miss Anthea!—­as a pict’er.”

“Oh, really?” yawned Bellew.

“Ah!” nodded the Waggoner, “there ain’t a man, in or out o’ the parish, from Squire down, as don’t think the very same.”

But here, the Waggoner’s voice tailed off into a meaningless drone that became merged with the creaking of the wheels, the plodding hoof-strokes of the horses, and Bellew fell asleep.

He was awakened by feeling himself shaken lustily, and, sitting up, saw that they had come to where a narrow lane branched off from the high road, and wound away between great trees.

“Yon’s your way,” nodded the Waggoner, pointing along the high road, “Dapplemere village lies over yonder, ’bout a mile.”

“Thank you very much,” said Bellew, “but I don’t want the village.”

“No?” enquired the Waggoner, scratching his head.

“Certainly not,” answered Bellew.

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Project Gutenberg
The Money Moon from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.