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    Homo 1909
    Homo 1909
    Homo 1909
    Ebook39 pages25 minutes

    Homo 1909

    By Francis Hopkinson Smith

    ()

    Read preview
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherArchive Classics
    Release dateNov 27, 2013
    Homo 1909

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      Book preview

      Homo 1909 - Francis Hopkinson Smith

      The Project Gutenberg EBook of Homo, by F. Hopkinson Smith

      This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with

      almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or

      re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included

      with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org

      Title: Homo

             1909

      Author: F. Hopkinson Smith

      Release Date: December 3, 2007 [EBook #23694]

      Last Updated: January 5, 2013

      Language: English

      *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HOMO ***

      Produced by David Widger

      HOMO

      By F. Hopkinson Smith

      1909

      Dinner was over, and Mme. Constantin and her guests were seated under the lighted candles in her cosey salon.

      With the serving of the coffee and cigarettes, pillows had been adjusted to bare shoulders, stools moved under slippered feet, and easy lounges pushed nearer the fire. Greenough, his long body aslant, his head on the edge of a chair, his feet on the hearth rug, was blowing rings to the ceiling. Bayard, the African explorer, and the young Russian Secretary, Ivan Petrovski, had each the end of a long sofa, with pretty Mme. Petrovski and old Baron Sleyde between them, while Mme. Constantin lay nestled like a kitten among the big and little cushions of a divan.

      The dinner had been a merry one, with every brain at its best; this restful silence was but another luxury. Only the Baron rattled on. A duel of unusual ferocity had startled Paris, and the old fellow knew its every detail. Mme. Petrovski was listening in a languid way:

      Dead, isn't he? she asked in an indifferent tone, as being the better way to change the subject. Duels did not interest the young bride.

      No, answered the Baron, flicking the ashes from his cigarette—going to get well, so Mercier, who operated, told a friend of mine to-day.

      Where did they fight? she asked, as she took a fresh cigarette from her case. Ivan told me, but I forgot.

      At Surenne, above the bridge. You know the row of trees by the water; we walked there the day we dined at the Cycle.

      Both of them fools! cried the Russian from the depths of his seat. "La Clou wasn't

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