The Enchanted April
THE ENCHANTED APRIL by ELIZABETH VON ARNIM It began in a Woman's Club in London on a February afternoon--an uncomfortable club, and a miserable afternoon--when Mrs. Wilkins, who had come down from Hampstead to shop and had lunched at her club, took up The Times from the table in the smoking-room, and running her listless eye down the Agony Column saw this: To Those Who Appreciate Wistaria and Sunshine. Small mediaeval Italian Castle on the shores of the Mediterranean to be Let furnished for the month of April. Necessary servants remain. Z, Box 1000, The Times.
ALLMERS. And you are going to start to-night?
BORGHEIM. Yes. To-night I go away in good earnest.
ALLMERS. [With a glance at ASTA.] And you have made sure of
pleasant company, I daresay.
BORGHEIM. [Shaking his head.] I am going alone.
ALLMERS. [With surprise.] Alone!
BORGHEIM. Utterly alone.
ALLMERS. [Absently.] Indeed?
BORGHEIM. And I shall have to remain alone, too.
ALLMERS. There is something horrible in being alone. The thought of
it runs like ice through my blood--
ASTA. Oh, but, Alfred, you are not alone.
ALLMERS. There may be something horrible in that too, Asta.
ASTA. [Oppressed.] Oh, don't talk like that! Don't think like that!
THE ENCHANTED APRIL by ELIZABETH VON ARNIM It began in a Woman's Club in London on a February afternoon--an uncomfortable club, and a miserable afternoon--when Mrs. Wilkins, who had come down from Hampstead to shop and had lunched at her club, took up The Times from the table in the smoking-room, and running her listless eye down the Agony Column saw this: To Those Who Appreciate Wistaria and Sunshine. Small mediaeval Italian Castle on the shores of the Mediterranean to be Let furnished for the month of April. Necessary servants remain. Z, Box 1000, The Times.