He had lost nearly a pound since his
arrival the week before, and he had three more weeks to stay. What might
not happen!
Just where the promenade twists under the shaded alleys that lead to the
Ferdinandsbrunnen, he saw four women holding hands. They were dressed in
Tyrolean fashion--pleated skirts, short enough to show white, plump
stockings, feet in slippers, upon the head huge caps, starched and
balloony; their massive white necks, well exposed, were encircled by
collars that came low on bodices elaborately embroidered. Behind them
marched several burly chaps, in all the bravery of the Austrian
Tyrol--the green alpine hat, with the feather at the back, the short
gray jacket, the bare knees, and the homespun stockings. Krayne regarded
curiously this strolling band of singers. Their faces seemed familiar to
him, and he rapidly recalled souvenirs of Salzburg and an open-air
concert. But this morning there was something that arrested his
attention in the group. It was a girl of eighteen or twenty, with a
brilliant complexion, large blue eyes, and a robust, shapely figure.
Pages:
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189