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Dell, Ethel M. (Ethel May), 1881-1939

"The Top of the World"

"Yes, I know. But I can't sleep. I'm always
listening. I can't help it. My brain feels wound up.
Sometimes--sometimes it feels as if it hurts me to shut my eyes."
"There's a remedy for that," said Kieff, and his hand went to his
pocket.
She looked at him startled. "Oh, not that! Not that! I couldn't.
It would be wrong."
"Not if I advise it," said Kieff, with a self-assurance that seemed
to knock aside her resistance as of no account.
She knew she ought to have resisted further, but somehow she could
not. His very impassivity served to make opposition impossible.
It came to her that the inevitable was upon her, and whatever she
said would make no difference. Moreover, she was too tired greatly
to care.
She uttered a little cry when a few seconds later she felt the
needle pierce her flesh, but she submitted without a struggle.
After all, what did it matter for once? And she needed rest so much.
With a sigh she surrendered herself, and was amazed at the swift
relief that came to her. It was like the rolling away of an
immense weight, and immediately she seemed to float upwards,
upwards, like a soaring bird.
Kieff remained by her side, but his presence did not trouble her.
She was possessed by an ecstasy so marvellous that she had no room
for any other emotion; She was as one borne on wings, ascending,
ever ascending, through an atmosphere of transcendent gold.


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