It seemed as if strange flames of
green darted from their pupils.
"But that is what I want!" Paul said, unsteadily.
"Without counting the cost? Tears and--cold steel--and blood!" she
whispered. "Wait a while, beautiful Paul!"
He started back chilled for a second, and in that second she changed
her position, pulling the cushions around her, nestling into them and
drawing herself cosily up like a child playing on a mat in front of
the fire, while with a face of perfect innocence she looked up as she
drew one of her great books nearer, and said in a dreamy voice:
"Now we will read fairy-tales, Paul."
But Paul was too moved to speak. These rapid changes were too much for
him, greatly advanced though he had become in these short days since
he had known her. He leant back in his chair, every nerve in his body
quivering, his young fresh face almost pale.
"Paul," she cooed plaintively, "to-morrow I shall be reasonable again,
perhaps, and human, but to-day I am capricious and wayward, and
mustn't be teased. I want to read about Cupid and Psyche from this
wonderful 'Golden Ass' of Apuleius--just a simple tale for a wet
day--and you and--me!"
"Read then!" said Paul, resigned.
And she commenced in Latin, in a chanting, tender voice. Paul had
forgotten most of the Latin he knew, but he remembered enough to be
aware that this must be as easy as English to her as it flowed along
in a rich rhythmic sound.
Pages:
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73