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Then, into her eyes came that divine beauty which comes but once on earth innocence awakened; and the white lids drooped a little, and the mouth quivered, surrendering with a sigh. "You never have, never could love any other man? Say it. I know it, but say it, sweetheart!" "Only you, Duane." "Are you happy?" "I am in heaven."
It is weeks before you hear the end of your nurse, your pocket money, your sister, and your sweetheart; and for you all the little pleasure of your first term at school has gone. But what of Jerry? He comes to you in the morning as if nothing had happened, with a "How are you, old fellow?" You are so indignant you can't speak; all you are able to do is to glare in scorn and anger.
Soon after the interview between the stranger and Dandy, and while the former had gone to get the letters from Father M'Mahon, this same sweetheart, by name Alley Mahon, came to have a word or two with Paudeen Gair, or Pat Sharpe.
Probably her mother at home would be disturbed, like Lydia's aunt, at the thought that there was no woman on board, in case her child should be ill or lonely; but, as for any impropriety, would never think twice on that subject. The difference is that the English girl would not be a young lady. She would find her sweetheart among the sailors, and would have nothing to say to the gentlemen.
I don't like your talking so to me, Horace. I only meant to do what was right." "I won't talk so any more, darling." "I don't think I have much of the eternal feminine about me, Horace." "Of course not, sweetheart." "I love you, anyway," Rose whispered, and put up her face to be kissed again, "and I didn't want to hurt you. I only wanted to do my duty." "Of course you did, sweetheart.
Yes! the giant maples had forgiven me, and the multitudinous beeches had taken me to their arms. The flowers and I were friends again, the grass was my brother, and the shy nymph-like stream, dropping silver vowels into the silence, was my sweetheart. For those who value it, there is no form of property that inspires a sense of ownership so jealous as solitude.
She leaned against him palpitating, unstrung, piteously distressed. "That's what makes it so dreadful," she whispered. "I wish I were dead! Oh, I do wish I were dead!" "Nonsense!" he said. "Nonsense!" He put his hand upon her head, pressing it against his breast. "Little sweetheart, what has happened to you? Tell me what is the matter!"
A woman's hat and parasol were lying on a chair, and there was a valise on the floor by the chest of drawers. Turning, he gave a cry of delight. Mavis was stretched on the bed, fast asleep. She woke at the sound of his voice, scrambled down, and flung herself into his arms. "Will, oh, Will. My dearest Will! "My darling my little sweetheart. But how have you come to me have you flown?"
Fleda stopped crying as soon as she could, lest somebody should see her; and was sitting quietly again, alone as before, when one of the sailors whom she had never spoken to came by, and leaning over towards her with a leer as he passed, said, "Is this the young English gentleman's little sweetheart?" Poor Fleda! She had got more than she could bear.
"I shall forget no moment of that night, sweetheart, while I live," he whispered; and blushes swept prettily over her face, and in a sweet confusion she smiled back at him. "Oh, Hilary!" she said. "Oh, Sylvia!" he mimicked; and as they laughed together, it seemed there was a danger that the story of the months of separation would never be completed. But Chayne brought her back to it. "Well?
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