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Nocturne by Frank Swinnerton
page 86 of 195 (44%)


i

To lie deep among cushions, and gently to ride out along streets and
roads that she had so often tramped in every kind of weather, was enough
to intoxicate Jenny. She heard the soft humming of the engine, and saw
lamps and other vehicles flashing by, with a sense of effortless speed
that was to her incomparable. If only she had been mentally at ease, and
free from distraction, she would have enjoyed every instant of her
journey. Even as it was, she could not restrain her eagerness as they
overtook a tramcar, and the chauffeur honked his horn, and they glided
nearer and nearer, and passed, and seemed to leave the tram standing.
Each time this was in process of happening Jenny gave a small excited
chuckle, thinking of the speed, and the ease, and of how the people in
the tram must feel at being defeated in the race. Every such encounter
became a race, in which she pressed physically forward as if to urge her
steed to the final effort. Never had Jenny teen so eager for victory, so
elated when its certainty was confirmed. It was worth while to live for
such experience. How she envied her driver! With his steady hands upon
the steering wheel.... Ah, he was like a sailor, like the sailor of
romance, with the wind beating upon his face and his eyes ever-watchful.
And under his hand the car rode splendidly to Keith.

Jenny closed her eyes. She could feel her heart beating fast, and the
blood heating her cheeks, reddening them. The blood hurt her, and her
mouth seemed to hurt, too, because she had smiled so much. She lay back,
thinking of Keith and of their meetings--so few, so long ago, so
indescribably happy and beautiful. She always remembered him as he had
been when first he had caught her eye, when he had stood so erect among
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