large/803/book_wonder_ge_librivox_64kb_mp3/bookofwonder_07_dunsany_64kb_20
large/803/book_wonder_ge_librivox_64kb_mp3/bookofwonder_07_dunsany_64kb
English
803
She screamed, but to no knight, nor knew what knight to call on, nor guessed where were the dragons' overthrowers of far, romantic days, nor what mightier game they chased, or what wars they waged; perchance they were busy even then arming for Armageddon. SHE SCREAMED BUT TO NO NIGHT NOR KNEW WHAT NIGHT TO CALL ON NOR GUESSED WHERE WERE THE DRAGON'S OVERTHROWS OF FAR ROMANTIC DAYS NOR WHAT MIGHTIER GAME THEY CHASED OR WHAT WARS THEY WAGED PERCHANCE THEY WERE BUSY EVEN THEN ARMING FOR ARMOR GETTIN
 there was nothing to warn her at all that a loathsome dragon with golden scales that rattled as he went should have come up clean out of the prime of romance and gone by night (so far as we know) through Hammersmith, and come to Ardle Mansions, and then had turned to his left, which of course brought him to Miss Cubbidge's father's house. There sat Miss Cubbidge at evening on her balcony quite alone, waiting for her father to be made a baronet. She was wearing walking-boots and a hat and a low-necked evening dress; for a painter was but just now painting her portrait and neither she nor the painter saw anything odd in the strange combination. She did not notice the roar of the dragon's golden scales, nor distinguish above the manifold lights of London the small, red glare of his eyes. He suddenly lifted his head, a blaze of gold, over the balcony; he did not appear a yellow dragon then, for his glistening scales reflected the beauty that London puts upon her only at evening and night. ICH MISS CUBBAGE WENT THERE WAS NOTHING TO WARN HER AT ALL THAT A LOATHSOME DRAGON WITH GOLDEN SCALES THAT RATTLED AS HE WENT WOULD HAVE COME UP CLEAN OUT OF THE PRIME OF ROMANCE AND GONE BY NIGHT SO FAR AS WE KNOW THROUGH HAMMERSMITH AND COME TO ARDLE MANSION AND THEN HAD TURNED TO HIS LEFT WHICH OF COURSE BROUGHT HIM TO MISS CUBBAGE'S FATHER'S HOUSE THERE SAT MISS CUBBAGE AT EVENING ON HER BALCONY QUITE ALONE WAITING FOR HER FATHER TO BE MADE A BARONET SHE WAS WEARING WALKING BOOTS AND A HAT AND A LOW NECKED EVENING DRESS FOR A PAINTER WAS BUT JUST NOW PAINTING HER PORTRAIT AND NEITHER SHE NOR THE PAINTER SAW ANYTHING ODD IN THIS STRANGE COMBINATION SHE DID NOT NOTICE THE ROAR OF THE DRAGON'S GOLDEN SCALES NOR DISTINGUISH ABOVE THE MANIFOLD LIGHTS OF LONDON THE SMALL RED GLARE OF HIS EYES HE SUDDENLY LIFTED HIS HEAD A BLAZE OF GOLD OVER THE BALCONY HE DID NOT APPEAR A YELLOW DRAGON THEN FOR HIS GLISTENING SCALES REFLECTED THE BEAUTY THAT LONDON PUTS UPON HER ONLY AT EVENING AND NIGHT
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