Come Rack! Come Rope! by Robert Hugh Benson
page 72 of 526 (13%)
page 72 of 526 (13%)
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"My Robin," she said, "I have been thinking so much about you, and I have feared sometimes--" She stopped herself, and he looked for her to finish. She drew her hand away and stood up. "Oh! it is miserable!" she cried. "And all might have been so happy." The tears suddenly filled her eyes so that they shone like flowers in dew. He stood up, too, and put his muddy arm about her shoulders. (She felt so slight and slender.) "It will be happy," he said. "What have you been fearing?" She shook her head and the tears ran down. "I cannot tell you yet.... Robin, what a holy man that travelling priest must be, who said mass on Sunday." The lad was bewildered at her swift changes of thought, for he did not yet see the chain on which they hung. He strove to follow her. "It seemed so to me too," he said. "I think I have never seen--" "It seemed so to you too," she cried. "Why, what do you know of him?" He was amazed at her vehemence. She had drawn herself clear of his arm |
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