Explore "Simon the Coldheart" by Georgette Heyer on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
On the broad terrace Jeanne sat sewing, a fur cloak about her plump form, for although the sun was shining it was but a wintry sun, and the day was frosty. To her came Malvallet, bedight in crimson velvet and gold lacing. Mademoiselle looked up, surveying him.
"Oh, fie! " she murmured and turned her head to gaze pensively at a robin. "The soldier turned popinjay, i' faith. He shames the sun. " She picked up her needle again.