United States or Serbia ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Still half concealed by the acacia-shrub, and in a soft voice so as not to alarm her, he called Irene's name, and the poor child's blood froze with terror, for never before had she been startled by a man here, and at this hour. She stood as if rooted to the spot, and, trembling with fright, she pressed the cold, wet, golden jar, sacred to the god, closely to her bosom.
He could now distinguish her light foot-fall now she was divided from him by a young acacia-shrub which hid her from his gaze-now she set down two water-jars on the ground now she briskly lifted the bucket and filled the vessel she held in her left hand now she looked towards the eastern horizon, where the dim light of dawn grew broader and brighter, and Lysias thought he recognized Irene and now Praised be the gods! he was sure; before him stood the younger and not the elder sister; the very maiden whom he sought.
He could now distinguish her light foot-fall now she was divided from him by a young acacia-shrub which hid her from his gaze-now she set down two water-jars on the ground now she briskly lifted the bucket and filled the vessel she held in her left hand now she looked towards the eastern horizon, where the dim light of dawn grew broader and brighter, and Lysias thought he recognized Irene and now Praised be the gods! he was sure; before him stood the younger and not the elder sister; the very maiden whom he sought.
He could now distinguish her light foot-fall now she was divided from him by a young acacia-shrub which hid her from his gaze-now she set down two water-jars on the ground now she briskly lifted the bucket and filled the vessel she held in her left hand now she looked towards the eastern horizon, where the dim light of dawn grew broader and brighter, and Lysias thought he recognized Irene and now Praised be the gods! he was sure; before him stood the younger and not the elder sister; the very maiden whom he sought.
Still half concealed by the acacia-shrub, and in a soft voice so as not to alarm her, he called Irene's name, and the poor child's blood froze with terror, for never before had she been startled by a man here, and at this hour. She stood as if rooted to the spot, and, trembling with fright, she pressed the cold, wet, golden jar, sacred to the god, closely to her bosom.
Still half concealed by the acacia-shrub, and in a soft voice so as not to alarm her, he called Irene's name, and the poor child's blood froze with terror, for never before had she been startled by a man here, and at this hour. She stood as if rooted to the spot, and, trembling with fright, she pressed the cold, wet, golden jar, sacred to the god, closely to her bosom.
Word Of The Day