SEARCH
0-9 A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Prev | Current Page 186 | Next

Oppenheim, E. Phillips (Edward Phillips), 1866-1946

"The Double Life Of Mr. Alfred Burton"

"What did you say?
"What did I say?" he repeated wonderingly. "But of course you know!
Imagine the horror of it--a health-food for the mind! Huge sums of
money rolling in from the pockets of credulous people, money stinking
with the curse of vulgarity and quackery! It is almost like a false
note, dear, to speak of it out here, but I must tell you because they
are angry with me. I am afraid that your father will send me away, and
I am afraid that our little dream is over and that I shall not wander
with you any more evenings here in the cool darkness, when the heat of
the day is past and the fragrance of the cedar tree and your roses fills
the air, and you, your sweet self, Edith, are here."
She was looking at him very fixedly. Her lips were a little parted, her
eyes were moist, her bosom was rising and falling as though she were
shaken by some wonderful emotion.
"Dear!" she murmured.
It seemed to him that she leaned a little towards him. His heart ached
with longing. Very slowly, almost reverently, his hands touched her
shoulders, drew her towards him.
"You and I," he whispered, "at least we live in the same world. Nothing
will ever be able to take the joy of that thought from my heart.


Pages:
174 175 176 177 178 179 180 181 182 183 184 185 186 187 188 189 190 191 192 193 194 195 196 197 198