Read "Pimpernel and Rosemary" by Emma Orczy online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
There was no one there quite so self-possessed as Elza. Even Rosemary had some difficulty in smothering a cry. The innkeeper jumped down from the seat as if he had been driven away by a whip; the peasants gesticulated and jabbered in an undertone. Rosemary looked at Elza and clutched her hand more tightly against her own body. Elza's face was the colour of lead, her lips looked purple, even her large, blue eyes appeared colourless. Her hand was as cold as ice and shook in Rosemary's strength-giving clasp. But to the eyes of all these peasants and subordinates she appeared perfectly calm, and after a moment or two she turned to the group of jabbering, gesticulating peasants and asked quite quietly: "Which of you first saw the motor draw up?"
"I heard the noise, gracious countess," the Jew volunteered, "as the car drew up outside the door, and--"