The Definite Object - A Romance of New York by Jeffery Farnol
page 78 of 497 (15%)
page 78 of 497 (15%)
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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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