{"product_id":"2940013762732","title":"The Last Bouquet: Some Twilight Tales","description":"She who had been Florence Flannery noted with a careless eye the stains\u003cbr\u003eof wet on the dusty stairs, and with a glance ill used to observance of\u003cbr\u003edomesticities looked up for damp or dripping ceilings. The dim-walled\u003cbr\u003estaircase revealed nothing but more dust, yet this would serve as a peg\u003cbr\u003efor ill-humor to hang on, so Florence pouted. \"An ill, muddy place,\"\u003cbr\u003esaid she, who loved gilding and gimcracks and mirrors reflecting velvet\u003cbr\u003echairs, and flounced away to the upper chamber, lifting frilled skirts\u003cbr\u003econtemptuously high. Her husband followed; they had been married a week\u003cbr\u003eand there had never been any happiness in their wilful passion. Daniel\u003cbr\u003eShute did not now look for any; in the disgust of this draggled\u003cbr\u003ehomecoming he wondered what had induced him to marry the woman and how\u003cbr\u003esoon he would come to hate her.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAs she stood in the big bedroom he watched her with dislike; her tawdry\u003cbr\u003echarms of vulgar prettiness had once been delightful to his dazed senses\u003cbr\u003eand muddled wits, but here, in his old home, washed by the fine Devon\u003cbr\u003eair, his sight was clearer and she appeared coarse as a poppy at the far\u003cbr\u003eend of August.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Of course you hate it,\" he said cynically, lounging with his big\u003cbr\u003eshoulders against one of the bedposts, his big hands in the pockets of\u003cbr\u003ehis tight nankeen trousers, and his fair hair, tousled from the journey,\u003cbr\u003ehanging over his mottled face.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"It is not the place you boasted to have,\" replied Florence, but idly,\u003cbr\u003efor she stood by the window and looked at the tiny leaded panes; the\u003cbr\u003eautumn sun gleaming sideways on this glass, picked out a name scratched\u003cbr\u003ethere:\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFLORENCE FLANNERY. BORNE 1500.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Look here,\" cried the woman, excited, \"this should be my ancestress!\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe slipped off a huge diamond ring she wore and scratched underneath\u003cbr\u003ethe writing the present year, \"1800.\" Daniel Shute came and looked over\u003cbr\u003eher shoulder.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"That reads strange--'Born 1500'--as if you would say died 1800,\" he\u003cbr\u003eremarked. \"Well, I don't suppose she had anything to do with you, my\u003cbr\u003echarmer, yet she brought you luck, for it was remembering this name here\u003cbr\u003emade me notice you when I heard what you were called.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe spoke uncivilly, and she responded in the same tone. \"Undervalue what\u003cbr\u003eis your own, Mr. Shute. There was enough for me to choose from, I can\u003cbr\u003eswear!\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Enough likely gallants,\" he grinned, \"not so many likely husbands, eh?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe slouched away, for, fallen as he was, it stung him that he had\u003cbr\u003emarried a corybante of the opera, an unplaced, homeless, nameless\u003cbr\u003ecreature for all he knew, for he could never quite believe that\u003cbr\u003e\"Florence Flannery\" was her real name.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eYet that name had always attracted; it was so queer that he should meet\u003cbr\u003ea real woman called Florence Flannery when one of the earliest of his\u003cbr\u003erecollections was tracing that name over with a curious finger in the\u003cbr\u003eold diamond pane.","brand":"WDS Publishing","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":47152782344432,"sku":"2940013762732","price":2.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0737\/7593\/9824\/files\/2940013762732_p0.jpg?v=1763589932","url":"https:\/\/shop-qa.barnesandnoble.com\/products\/2940013762732","provider":"Barnes \u0026 Noble (DEV)","version":"1.0","type":"link"}