Explore "Peregrine's Progress" by Jeffery Farnol on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The silence was broken only by the plodding hoofs of Diogenes, the creak of harness and rattle of wheels, while Diana grew lost in thought and I in contemplation of Diana; the stately grace of her slender, shapely form, the curve of her vivid lips, the droop of her long, down-swept lashes, her resolute chin and her indefinable air of native pride and power. All at once her sombre look gave place to a smile, her slender hand tightened upon the reins, and glancing up I saw that we had reached a place where four roads met, and here, seated beneath the finger-post was a solitary, shabbily dressed old man absorbed in a book; roused by the sound of our approach, he glanced up and I recognised the ancient person, Lord Wyvelstoke.
"It's my old man! " said Diana, and waved her hand in joyous greeting, whereupon he arose and doffing his weather-beaten hat, bowed white head in stately greeting.