World of Promise

Начало книги

Against the tawdry velvet the dolls were things of enchantment: bright shapes of tinsel and glitter with hair of various hues formed into elaborate coiffures, eyes like gems, limbs and bodies traced with glowing colors, sparkling with sequins, stuffed with aromatic herbs.

"Mummy!" The voice was thin, high, crackling with childish longing. "Look, Mummyl Please may I have one?"

"No, child."

"Please, Mummy! Please!"

"No, Lavinia! Don't ask again!"

Dumarest turned, seeing the small figure at his side, the mane of hair which formed an ebon waterfall over the narrow shoulders-a frame for the rounded, piquant face, the widely spaced eyes now filled with a hopeless yearning. One which matched that of the woman who blinked as she forced herself to be harsh.

She said, as if conscious of his presence, "You know we can't afford to buy such things, child. Later, when we get back home, I'll make you one. I promise."

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