Explore "The Definite Object" by Jeffery Farnol on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
It was Saturday morning, and Hermione was making a pie and looking uncommonly handsome about it and altogether feminine and adorable; at least, so Ravenslee thought, as he watched her bending above the pastry board, her round, white arms bared to each dimpled elbow, and the rebellious curl wantoning at her temple as usual.
"But why kidneys, my dear? " demanded Mrs. Trapes, glancing up from the potatoes she was peeling. "Kidneys is rose again; kidneys is always risin', it seems to me. If you must have pie, why not good, plain beefsteak? It's jest as fillin' an' cheaper, my dear -- so why an' wherefore kidneys?"