Crazy Radio eBooks

Yes, it was Maurice whom she had seen again for an instant in the
melting look of Ruffo's face. She felt frightened in the dark. Maurice
--when he kissed her for the last time, had looked at her like that.
It could not be fancy. It was not.
Was this the very first time she had noticed in Ruffo a likeness to
her dead husband? She asked herself if it was. Yes. She had never--or
had there been something? Not in the face, perhaps. But--the voice?
Ruffo's singing? His attitude as he stood up in the boat? Had there
not been something? She remembered her conversation with Artois in the
cave. She had said to him that--she did not know why--the boy, Ruffo,
had made her feel, had stirred up within her slumbering desires,
slumbering yearnings.
"I have heard a hundred boys sing on the Bay--and just this one
touches some chord, and all the strings of my soul quiver."
She had said that.
Then there was something in the boy, something not merely fleeting
like that look of gentleness--something permanent, subtle, that
resembled Maurice.


Pages:
458 459 460 461 462 463 464 465 466 467 468 469 470 471 472 473 474 475 476 477 478 479 480 481 482