Some vague hope--of which he was
ashamed--died away. Profoundly touched, he put out his arms, and
making nothing of her slight resistance, gathered her close to him.
'Did you ever read _Sintram_, Beryl?'
'Yes, years ago.'
'Do you remember his black fits--how they came upon him
unexpectedly--and only Verena could help him? It's like that with me
sometimes. Things I've seen--horrible sufferings and death--come
back on me. I can't get over it--at least not yet. But I'll never
let it come really between us. And perhaps--some day'--he hesitated
and his voice dropped--'you shall help me--like Verena!'
She clung to him, not knowing what he meant, but fascinated by his
deep voice, and the warm shelter of his arms. He bent down to kiss
her, in the most passionate embrace he had ever given her.
Then he released her, and they both looked at each other with a new
shyness.
'So that's all right!' he said, smiling. 'You see you can't drop me
as easily as you think. I stick! Well, now, you take me as a
pauper--not exactly a pauper--but still--I've got to settle things
with your father, though!'
Beryl proposed that they should go and look for the others.
Pages:
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151