David Poindexter's Disappearance, and Other Tales by Julian Hawthorne
page 58 of 137 (42%)
page 58 of 137 (42%)
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Whether we had ever met before, as human beings meet, I knew not;
perhaps I had been blindly seeking her all over the world, and she had been awaiting me in this splendid room, sitting by those dead embers until all the warmth had gone out of her blood, only to be restored by the heat with which my love might supply her. "'I thought you had forgotten me,' she said, nodding as if in answer to my thought. 'The night was so late--our one night of the year! How my heart rejoiced when I heard your dear voice singing the song I know so well! Kiss me--my lips are cold!' "Cold indeed they were--cold as the lips of death. But the warmth of my own seemed to revive them. They were now tinged with a faint color, and in her cheeks also appeared a delicate shade of pink. She drew fuller breath, as one who recovers from a long lethargy. Was it my life that was feeding her? I was ready to give her all. She drew me to the table and pointed to the viands and the wine. "'Eat and drink,' she said. 'You have traveled far, and you need food.' "'Will you eat and drink with me?' said I, pouring out the wine. "'You are the only nourishment I want,' was her answer.' This wine is thin and cold. Give me wine as red as your blood and as warm, and I will drain a goblet to the dregs.' "At these words, I know not why, a slight shiver passed through me. She seemed to gain vitality and strength at every instant, but the chill of the great room struck into me more and more. |
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