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It is all in pencil, with changes and erasures here and there. Listen: Roger put down the book and stared fixedly at the fire. Barbara's face was very pale and the light had gone from her eyes. "Roger," she said, in a strange tone, "Constance was my mother's name. Do you think " He was startled, for his thought had not gone so far as her intuition. "I do not know," he said.
Coolidge's protests were broken off by Barbara's return. The girl stood before her father with her eyes on the floor and her face cold and impassive. She was dressed again in the garments she had worn when she first entered the house, three months before, and she seemed a far different creature from the happy and radiant girl to whom her lover had but just said good-bye.
"Wake up, little one," cried the vine, "for the prince is coming!" But Barbara slept; she did not hear the vine's soft calling, nor the lofty music of the forest. A little snow-bird flew down from the fir-tree's bough and perched upon the vine, and carolled in Barbara's ear of the Christmas morning and of the coming of the prince. But Barbara slept; she did not hear the carol of the bird.
It must be so, for who else could know what she was to him? Yet no! He himself had aided the guilty passion of this couple, for how warmly he had sung Barbara's praises to Don Luis! And then in how many a conversation with Barbara had Quijada's name been mentioned, and he had always spoken of this man with warm regard. Hence her remark that he himself deemed her lover worthy of esteem.
She unlocked and flung open the door of Barbara's studio, remarking that nothing in it had been touched since that lady's departure. Wilmot noticed much dust, an overturned chair, and then his eyes rose to the bust of Blizzard as to a living presence. The expression of that bestial fallen face made his spine feel as if ants were crawling on it. And he turned away with disgust and hatred.
Barbara's eyes followed her father fondly as he went out and down the hall to his own room. When his door closed, Roger came to the other chair, sat down, and took her hand. "It's not really necessary," explained Barbara, with a faint pink upon her cheeks. "I shall probably recover, even if my hand isn't held all the time." "But I want to," returned Roger, and she did not take her hand away.
For the faith between them is perfect; Rick knows that whoever may have ruled her yesterdays he and he only holds Barbara's heart to-day, and the shadow of Oliver Desmond has passed from off her life for ever.
"You're the only person in the world I want to marry," he answered. Barbara's face twisted in a spasm of pain. "God! How it hurts when you say that! Eric, I shall make you miserable and be miserable myself! I love you; you know I love you! But I don't want to marry you. Why don't you forget me? Go away " "Forget you!" Eric gripped her by the shoulders.
Twigs of bayberry and wild beach plum made trees with which to border its avenues, and every dear delight of swing and arbor and garden pool beloved in Barbara's play- days, was reproduced in miniature until Georgina loved them, too. She knew just where the bee-hives ought to be put, and the sun-dial, and the hole in the fence where the little pigs squeezed through.
Wolf must, of course, consider the circumstances which he would find here. If he would accommodate himself to them, the Council would be willing to overlook his faith; besides, Hiltner, on his own authority, had given him the three days' time to reflect, for which he had asked on Barbara's account. A long-drawn "H'm" from Blomberg followed this disclosure.
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