Prev | Current Page 164 | Next

Parrish, Randall, 1858-1923

"Love under Fire"

Suddenly she arose to her feet, her face white
and drawn, her hands extended in a gesture of disgust. Attracted by the
open window, and the black vista of night beyond, she stepped through
onto the balcony, and stood there, leaning against the rail.

CHAPTER XX
WE ARRIVE AT A CRISIS
I remained there, pressed into one corner, unable to move, scarcely
venturing to breathe, her skirt brushing my leg, the strands of her
hair, loosened by the night wind, almost in my face. She was gazing
straight out into the night, utterly unconscious of my presence, so
deeply buried in her own trouble that all else seemed as nothing. For a
moment she remained motionless, silent; then her hands pressed against
her forehead, and her lips gave utterance to a single exclamation:
"Oh, God! I can never, never stand it! What shall I do?"
Perhaps I moved, perhaps some sense of the occult revealed my presence,
for she turned swiftly, with a sharp gasp of the breath, and looked
straight into my eyes. The recognition was instant, bewildering, a shock
which left her speechless, choking back the cry of alarm which rose into
her throat. She gripped the rail and stared as though at a ghost.
"Don't cry out," I entreated quickly. "Surely you know whom I am.


Pages:
152 153 154 155 156 157 158 159 160 161 162 163 164 165 166 167 168 169 170 171 172 173 174 175 176