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The Definite Object - A Romance of New York by Jeffery Farnol
page 78 of 497 (15%)
little. For a long moment they fronted each other thus silently upon
that grimy, narrow stair, she above with gracious head stooped, her dark
eyes questioning and wistful. And looking up into the flushed loveliness
of her face, those eyes deep and soft beneath their long, black lashes,
the tender droop of those vivid lips, beholding all this, he knew her to
be a thousand times more beautiful than any photograph could possibly
portray, wherefore he bared his head, and striving to speak, could find
no words to utter. For a moment longer she hesitated while her clear
eyes searched his face, then the red lips curved in a little wistful
smile.

"Thank you!" she said, and, yielding him her burden, led the way
up-stairs. "I'm afraid it's rather heavy," she said over her shoulder
after they had climbed another flight.

"It's quite too heavy for you!" he answered.

"Oh, but I've carried it often before now."

"Then you shouldn't!"

"But I have to!"

"No," said Ravenslee, shaking his head, "you should let your brother
bring it up for you."

"My brother!" she exclaimed, pausing to look her amazement. And again as
she stood thus poised above him, he took joy to note the warmth of her
rich colouring, the soft, round column of her white throat, the gracious
breadth of hip and shoulder.
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