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

"The Top of the World"

It could not be his intention to wreck her happiness. He
could not know all that hung upon it. Her happiness! She shivered
suddenly in the chill of the morning air. Could it be that
happiness--the greatest of all--had been actually within her grasp,
and she had let it slip unheeded? Sharply she turned her thoughts
back. No, she must not--must not think of Burke just then.
The chance would come again. The chance must come again. But she
must not suffer herself to contemplate it now. She had forfeited
the right.
Time passed. She thought the train would never start. The long
waiting had become almost a nightmare. She felt she would not be
able to endure it much longer. The night had seemed endless too, a
perpetual dozing and waking that had seemed to multiply the hours.
Now and then she realized that she was very tired; but for the most
part the fever of impatience that possessed her kept the
consciousness of fatigue at bay. If only she could keep moving she
felt that she could face anything.
The day broke over the _veldt_ and the scattered open town, with a
burning splendour like the kindling of a great fire. She watched
the dawn-light spread till the northern hills shone with a
celestial radiance. She leaned from the train to watch it; and as
she watched, the whole world turned golden.
Burke's words flashed back upon her with a force irresistible.


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