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Schreiner, Olive, 1855-1920

"The Story of an African Farm, a novel"


Professional duties always first, you know. It takes a great deal of time
and thought always to look perfectly exquisite, even for a pretty woman.
Is the old buggy still in existence, Waldo?"
"Yes, but the harness is broken."
"Well, I wish you would mend it. You must teach me to drive. I must learn
something while I am here. I got the Hottentot girl to show me how to make
sarsarties this morning; and Tant Sannie is going to teach me to make
kapjes. I will come and sit with you this afternoon while you mend the
harness."
"Thank you."
"No, don't thank me; I come for my own pleasure. I never find any one I
can talk to. Women bore me, and men, I talk so to--'Going to the ball this
evening? Nice little dog that of yours. Pretty little ears. So fond of
pointer pups!' And they think me fascinating, charming! Men are like the
earth, and we are the moon; we turn always one side to them, and they think
there is no other, because they don't see it--but there is."
They had reached the house now.
"Tell me when you set to work," she said, and walked toward the door.
Waldo stood to look after her, and Doss stood at his side, a look of
painful uncertainty depicted on his small countenance, and one little foot
poised in the air. Should he stay with his master or go? He looked at the
figure with the wide straw hat moving toward the house, and he looked up at
his master; then he put down the little paw and went.


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