Man on the Box by Harold MacGrath
page 120 of 288 (41%)
page 120 of 288 (41%)
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to hear her voice, to touch her hand occasionally, to ride with her;
in fact, always to be within the magic circle of her presence? Well, I love this girl; I know it now, it is positive, doubtless. Her presence is as necessary to me as the air I breathe. Had I met her in the conventional way, she would have looked upon me as one of the pillars of convention, and mildly ignored me. As I am, she does not know what I am, or who I am; I am a mystery, I represent a secret, and she desires to find out what this secret is. Besides all this, something impels me to act this part, something aside from love. It is inexplicable; fate, maybe." He paused, went to the window, and looked down into the street. It was after-theater time and carriages were rolling to and fro. "Bob, I apologize. You know a great deal more about feminine nature than I had given you credit for. But how can you win her this way?" He raised his shoulders. "Time and chance." "Well, whate'er betide, I can't help wishing you luck." We shook hands silently, and then I left him. "Father," said Betty Annesley at the dinnertable that same night, "I have engaged a new groom. He rode Pirate to-day and thoroughly mastered him." "Pirate? You don't say! Well, I'm glad of that. Pirate will make a capital saddle-horse if he is ridden often enough. The groom will be a safe companion for you on your rides. Are you too tired to do some drawing for me to-night?" |
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