By Austin Osman Spare
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Additional info for A Book of Satyrs
But tonight the air was close and stagnant, and the house seemed utterly devoid of any animating presence. In a few years, no one here would even remember the old duchess. Margaret was the only one who couldn’t forget. She stood up in the darkness and fumbled for a wrapper to pull around her shift. When she’d tied the belt around her waist, she slipped from her room. She fumbled her way down the cramped, lightless staircase that led from the servants’ quarters to the main halls. After that, the moon lit the way before her, silver light gilding black walls.
I shall send him your love and affection. ” he groused. “That’s the best you can manage for me? A puny, girlish emotion like remorse? None of you have an ounce of spirit. ” He stared at her a second, as if, after all this time, he had finally realized that there was a hint of rebellion behind her saccharine kindness. ” It was going to be a long evening. And tomorrow was going to be a long birthday. MARGARET HADN’T COMPREHENDED quite how long the night would be when she’d finally fallen, exhausted, into bed.
I brown terribly in the sunlight. ” “Oh, no. ” He spoke with exaggerated solicitude, but he leaned down from his horse until his nose was a bare foot from hers. “Freckles. And what do those dastardly spots portend? Are freckled people thrown in prison? Pilloried? ” He moved his hand in a lazy circle, ending with it stretched towards her, palm out. As if to say, explain why. “Pale skin—a white complexion—is superior,” Margaret said. ” Mr. Turner slid his finger under her chin. “Yet another reason why I am glad I am not a gentleman.
A Book of Satyrs by Austin Osman Spare