- end_line
- 4671
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T20:48:15.149Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 4636
- text
- After laughing her fill at him, she condescended to notice the rest;
glancing from one to another in the most methodical and provoking
manner imaginable. Whenever anything struck her comically, you saw it
like a flash—her finger levelled instantaneously, and, flinging herself
back, she gave loose to strange, hollow little notes of laughter, that
sounded like the bass of a music-box, playing a lively air with the lid
down.
Now, I knew not that there was anything in my own appearance calculated
to disarm ridicule; and indeed, to have looked at all heroic, under the
circumstances, would have been rather difficult. Still, I could not but
feel exceedingly annoyed at the prospect of being screamed at, in turn,
by this mischievous young witch, even though she were but an islander.
And, to tell a secret, her beauty had something to do with this sort of
feeling; and, pinioned as I was to a log, and clad most unbecomingly, I
began to grow sentimental.
Ere her glance fell upon me, I had, unconsciously, thrown myself into
the most graceful attitude I could assume, leaned my head upon my hand,
and summoned up as abstracted an expression as possible. Though my face
was averted, I soon felt it flush, and knew that the glance was on me;
deeper and deeper grew the flush, and not a sound of laughter.
Delicious thought! she was moved at the sight of me. I could stand it
no longer, but started up. Lo! there she was; her great hazel eyes
rounding and rounding in her head, like two stars, her whole frame in a
merry quiver, and an expression about the mouth that was sudden and
violent death to anything like sentiment.
The next moment she spun round, and, bursting from peal to peal of
laughter, went racing out of the Calabooza; and, in mercy to me, never
returned.
- title
- Chunk 3