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Friday, February 7, 2014

The Apple Tree

THE APPLE TREE The Apple-tree, the singing and the gold. -- Murrays Hippolytus Of Euripides. In their silver-wedding day Ashurst and his get married woman were motoring aprospicient the outskirts of the moor, intending to crown the festival by fish filet the night at Torquay, whither they had first met. This was the idea of Stella Ashurst, whose character contained a streak of sentiment. If she had long lost the blue-eyed, flower- manage charm, the cool abbreviate rectitude of face and form, the apple-blossom colouring, which had so swiftly and so curiously bear on Ashurst twenty-six years ago, she was still at forty-three a comely and faithful companion, whose cheeks were faintly mottled, and whose grey-blue eye had acquired a authentic amplyness. It was she who had stopped the car where the common travel steeply to the left, and a particularise strip of larch and beech, with here and there a pine, stretched out towards the valley between the itinerary and the fi rst long high hill of the full moor. She was feeling for a flummox where they might lunch, for Ashurst never looked for anything; and this, between the rosy furze and the plumelike green larches smelling of lemons in the at last sun of April--this, with a view into the deep valley and up to the long moor heights, seemed fitting to the decisive nature of unmatched who sketched in water-colours, and love romantic spots. Grasping her paint box, she got out. Wont this do, blackguard? Ashurst, rather like a bewhiskered Schiller, grey in the wings, tall, long-legged, with large removed(p) grey eyes which sometimes filled with signification and became roughly beautiful, with nose a little to one side, and bearded lips clean open--Ashurst, forty-eight, and silent, grasped the luncheon basket, and got out too. Oh! Look, Frank! A wakeless! By the side of the road, where the track from the top of the common go across it at right angles and ran through a gate recent the n arrow wood, was a thin mound of turf, six fe! et by one, with a moorstone to the west, and on it someone had thrown...If you want to get a full essay, order it on our website: OrderCustomPaper.com

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