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Glyn, Elinor, 1864-1943

"Three Weeks"

An
infinite joy was flooding his being, some sensation he had not dreamed
about even, of happiness and fulfilment.
She appeared to him more alluring than ever, and young and gay--as
young as Isabella! And then his thoughts caused him to take in his
breath with a hiss--Isabella--how far away she seemed. Of course he
could never love any one else--but--
"Don't think of it, then," the lady whispered. "Be young like me, and
live under the blue sky."
How was it she knew his thoughts always? He blushed while he
stammered: "No--I won't think of it--or anything but you--Princess."
"Daring one!" she said, "who told you to call me that? The hotel
people have been talking, I suppose."
"No," said Paul, surprised, "I called you Princess just because you
seem like one to me--but now I guess from what you say, you are not
plain Madame Zalenska."
Her eyes clouded for a second. "Madame Zalenska does to travel
with--but you shall call me what you like."
He grew emboldened.
"I suddenly feel I want so much--I want to know why your eyes were so
mocking through the trees on the Buergenstock? They drove me nearly
mad, you know, and I raced about after you like a dog after a hare!"
"I thought you would--you did not control the expression when you
gazed up at me! And so I was the true hare--and ran away!"
She looked down suddenly and was silent for some moments, then she
turned the conversation from these personal things.


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