Explore "Pimpernel and Rosemary" by Emma Orczy on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
But a moment or two later a curious thing happened.
Jasper had gone out of the room, and Rosemary, leaning against the window frame, was looking out into the approaching storm. She had not heard what Jasper had said just before he kissed her hand; but her mind must have registered it, must have made a kind of record of it, like that of a gramophone, because now some of his words came back to her quite distinctly through the rumblings of distant thunder. She had not heard him then, but she heard him now quite distinctly-every word.