She herself, and one other there, recognized the interposition
of something akin to tragedy. E. A medley of motives warred in her, and it
was certainly not one of the least of these that she knew herself to be
passionately in love with Capes; at moments she had a giddy intimation that he
was beginning to feel keenly interested in her. Besides, he might hear
things. His shoulders were bent, his face was
furrowed with wrinkles. ’
Melusine’s eyes misted. “You had only to
ask——”
“Do you think,” Anna interrupted, with a note of passion trembling also in her
tone, “that I would have taken alms from Sir John, the man to whom I had lied
for your sake. We are alone, Sir Rowland," he added, snuffing the candles, glancing
cautiously around, and lowering his tone, "and what you confide to me shall
never transpire,—at least to your disadvantage. But in its stead—toward
morning—there appeared another idea which appealed to him as sublime,
appealed to the primitive conscience, to his artistic sense of the drama, to the
poet and the novelist in him. She watched for five
minutes until he completely disappeared over Pine Crest,
past the yellow fire hydrant and the dented stop sign. “Forgive me,” he said. ‘Small wonder in a way that he found hisself consolation elsewhere. ”
Anna shook her head.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 03-07-2024 13:04:58