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How rich his father must be to spend so large a sum on an offering to the Church as heedlessly as men give alms to a beggar. Katharina and Paula! Yes, the little girl was a bright, brisk creature; but then Thomas' daughter what power there was in her eye, what majesty in her gait, how how how enchanting her her voice could be her voice....
'There may, of course, be some deliberate scheming on the part of your relations to intercept our letters; but I cannot think it. I know that the housekeeper has received a letter from your aunt this very week, in which she incidentally mentions that all are well, and in the same place as before. How then can I excuse you? 'Then write, Paula, or at least telegraph, as you proposed.
Paula must pass them in full moonshine but not just yet; and she crouched close to the straw thatch which stretched over the huge clay water-jars placed here for the slave-girls to get drink from. It cast a dark triangular shadow on the dusty ground that gleamed in the moonlight, and thus screened her from the gaze of the girls, while she could hear and see what was going on in the sheds.
Orion's fate was sealed in his mind; and before his death he should suffer more acutely through the execution of Paula, whether she denied or owned her guilt.
Of course if you had been able to take up politics in earnest but, never mind. I like you very well as you are. How well you look in that dress! 'I rather think you're right, Paula remarked, after a short pause, turning about a bracelet on her wrist. 'It'll be better if you go your way and I go mine. 'Precisely; though that's an unkind way of putting it.
"You were very good to come," said the neighbor who was staying as nurse. "And Mademoiselle Paula?" "Here she is. Come here, Paula." And as Paula came near the bed, Louisa said with a weak voice. "Now I understand the love of God, for when you kissed me and embraced me, it was that kiss that made me understand that God loves even me.
How ever, all this is not from yourself. What you call prudence is the voice of that nun!" "It is the voice of reason," replied Paula softly. "The yearning of my heart had overpowered it, and I owe to my friend...." "What do you owe her?" cried the young man furiously indignant. "You should curse her, rather, for doing you so ill a turn, as I do at this moment. What does she know of me?
But the utter confusion she felt under the Syrian girl's gaze did not last long. Paula exclaimed reproach fully: "You speak of your faith. Like mine, it requires you to respect the truth. Consider how much depends on your declaration; I implore you, child..."
And there were even nights rare ones when only Dick and Graham and Paula sat at dinner, and when, afterward, the two men yarned for an hour before an early bed, while she played soft things to herself or disappeared earlier than they. But one moonlight evening, when the Watsons and Masons and Wombolds arrived in force, Graham found himself out, when every bridge table was made up.
In a short time he had drawn near to the painting of the ancestor whom he so greatly resembled. When her quick eye noted the speck on the face, indicative of inherited traits strongly pronounced, a new and romantic feeling that the De Stancys had stretched out a tentacle from their genealogical tree to seize her by the hand and draw her in to their mass took possession of Paula.
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