Page:Magdalen by J S Machar.pdf/109

 looked around, and, finding a friend, stood long talking with him.

In the afternoon, about two o’clock, the fat wife of the burgomaster ventured out of the house. The peony-colored velvet of her gown, the light gloves that reached to her elbows, her hat full of nodding cherries, flowers, and many-colored feathers, announced to all good people some errand of great importance. It was a hot day. Pearls of perspiration, gathering in two streams under her eyes, ran down her plump cheeks. She walked under the dark-red shade of her parasol with a small, unwavering step, as though she were sailing, nodding her head to the right and to the left, thanking all polite people with a “Guten Tag” and a “How are you?”

Jiří’s house bordered with its back wall upon the castle park, and fronted on the open country. The burgomaster’s wife entered the spacious yard. She did not see any other creature but chickens, geese,