He waited for about three seconds, then knelt quietly down beside her.
"Say," he drawled, "I kind of like Raffold Abbey, sweetheart. Wouldn't
it be nice to spend our honeymoon there? Do you think they would let
us?" He laid his hand upon both of hers. "Wouldn't it be good?" he said
softly. "I should think there would be room for two, eh, sweetheart?"
With an effort she sought to withstand him before he wholly dominated
her.
"And every one will call it a _mariage de convenance_!"
"Let them!" he answered, with suppressed indifference. "I reckon we
shall have the laugh. But it isn't so unusual, you know. Americans
always fall in love at first sight."
He was unanswerable. He was sublime. She marvelled that she could have
ever even attempted to resist him.
With a sudden, tremulous laugh, she caught his hand to her, holding it
fast.
"Not Americans only!" she said. And swiftly, passionately, she bent and
pressed her lips to the red, seared scar upon her hero's wrist.
* * * * *
The Example
"And the fourth angel poured out his vial upon the sun; and power was
given unto him to scorch men with fire. And men were scorched with great
heat, and blasphemed the name of God, which hath power over these
plagues; and they repented not to give Him glory."
The droning voice quivered and fell silent.
Pages:
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202