Crazy Radio eBooks

"
It was with a curiously relaxed body, her chin cradled in the crook of
her arm that lay along the back of the couch, her eyes unfocused on the
window, that the girl listened to it.
Primarily, indeed, she wasn't exactly listening. Much of the narrative
went by almost unheard. Much of the philosophy she hardly tried to
understand. What was constantly present and more and more poignantly
vivid with every five minutes that ticked away on the banjo clock, was a
consciousness of the man himself, the driving power of him, the
boisterous health and freshness and confidence. She was conscious, too,
of something formidable--carelessly exultant in his own strength. She
got to thinking of the flight of a great bird wheeling up higher and
higher on his powerful wings.
He had caught her up, too, and was carrying her to altitudes far beyond
her own powers. He might drop her, but if he did, it wouldn't be through
weakness. At what he said about riding on the backs of one's own
passions, her imagination varied the picture so that she saw him
galloping splendidly by.


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