It Is Never Too Late to Mend by Charles Reade
page 67 of 1072 (06%)
page 67 of 1072 (06%)
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kissed his hand. "While you are true to me, nothing but death shall
part us twain. There never was any coolness between us, dear; you only thought so. You don't know what fools women are; how they delight to tease the man they love, and so torment themselves ten times more. I always loved you, but never as I do to-day; so honest, so proud, so unfortunate; I love you, I honor you, I adore you, oh! my love!--my love!--my love!!" She saw but George--she thought but of George--and how to soften his sorrow, and remove his doubts, if he had any. And she poured out these words of love with her whole soul--with blushes and tears and all the fire of a chaste and passionate woman's heart. And she clung to her love; and her tender bosom heaved against his; and she strained him, with tears and sighs, to her bosom; and he kissed her beautiful head; and his suffering heart drew warmth from this heavenly contact. The late exulting Meadows turned as pale as ashes, and trembled from head to foot. "Do you hear, William?" said George. "I hear, George," replied William in an iron whisper, with his sullen head sunk upon his breast. George left Susan, and came between her and William. "Then, Susan," said he, rather loud, "here is your brother." William winced. |
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