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Updated: June 20, 2025
I am also equally curious to know if anything eats the fruit of the red and white baneberry and the blue cohosh. The seeds of some wild fruit, such as the climbing bitter-sweet, are so soft that it seems impossible they should pass through the gizzard of a bird and not be destroyed.
No bouquets came now; no graceful little notes with books or invitations to some coveted pleasure; no dangerously delightful evenings in the recess, where, for a time, she felt and used the power which to a woman is so full of subtle satisfaction; no bitter-sweet hopes; no exciting dreams of what might be with the utterance of a word; no soft uncertainty to give a charm to every hour that passed.
And Harkness would brighten the great dark hall with bitter-sweet and deck the gloomy rooms with flowers he knew what was proper for the coming of the heir of the House of Forsyth. "Like as not," Budge said, "'twill be the end to this curse."
For a while he permitted himself the bitter-sweet satisfaction of merely watching her where she sat, in a shaft of sunlight, that struck golden gleams through the burnished abundance of her hair; of noting the grace and dignity of her pose, and speculating as to the nature of her thoughts.
He turned to her with apologetic appeal, as if to excuse himself for having wandered away from her in his thoughts. "I put it over the mantel," she nodded; "it lasts all winter." "The wahoo's red now, too," said he. "Do you care for it?" "It doesn't last as long as bitter-sweet," said she.
It was weeks since he had ridden the mustang. Nack-yal was fat and lazy. He loved his master, but he did not like the climb, and so fell far behind the lean and wiry pony that carried Nas Ta Bega. The sage levels were as purple as the haze of the distance, and there was a bitter-sweet tang on the strong, cool wind. The sun was gold behind the dark line of fringe on the mountain-top.
You are my own, my own, Dweller in my endless dreams! Your feet are rosy-red with the glow of my heart's desire, Gleaner of my sunset songs! Your lips are bitter-sweet with the taste of my wine of pain. You are my own, my own, Dweller in my lonesome dreams! With the shadow of my passion have I darkened your eyes, Haunter of the depth of my gaze!
"My dear," he said, "I intend to live on your gratitude. Don't be afraid of anything. Lascia fare a me." She rewarded him with a shy look. A rueful look, it cut him like a knife; but he could have screwed it round in the wound to get more of such pain. There's no more bitter-sweet torment to a man than the thanks of the beloved woman for her freedom given back to her.
His self-abnegation, his young heroism made him for the moment as finely luminous as she was. Sally Madeira took his head between her hands and gazed into his eyes tenderly, caressingly, and there was in her touch something large and sweet and tender that comforted and soothed the boy while it made his heart leap within him. "Ah, Darling," she said, "how bitter-sweet it is, this loving!
He stooped, and with the innate chivalry peculiar to the Hungarian peasantry, he kissed the small, cold hand which trembled in his grasp: he kissed it as a noble lord would kiss the hand of a princess. Then, without looking on her again, he walked quietly out of the house, and Elsa was alone with yet another bitter-sweet memory to add to her store of regrets. "It is true."
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