Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
A flash of remembrance seemed to come to him, for he smiled and said, "Coira, we'll go to Vavau." "Anywhere!" said she. "Anywhere!" "So that we go together." "Yes," she said, gently, "so that we two go together."
"Don't you understand," he cried, "that life's only just beginning day's just dawning, Coira? We've been lost in the dark. Day's coming now. This is only the sunrise." "I can believe it at last," she said, "because you hold me close and you hurt me a little, and I'm glad to be hurt. And I can feel your heart beating. Ah, never let me go, Bayard!
It was for love. For love of whom?" For some strange and inexplicable reason the words struck him like a blow and he stared whitely. "I came," he said, at last, and his voice was oddly flat, "for his sister's sake. For love of her." Coira O'Hara dropped her eyes. But presently she looked up again with a smile. She said, "God make you happy, my friend."
Set me down at 7 P.M., right there on the corner outside the Knickerbocker, for that's where I would live and die." There came into the lad's somewhat strident voice a softness that was almost pathetic. "You don't know Broadway, Coira, do you? Nix! of course not. Little girl, it's the one street of all this large world. It's the equator that runs north and south instead of east and west.
The yellow beams of light struck down across her head and face, and even at the distance the man could see how white she was and hollow-eyed and worn a pale wraith of the splendid beauty that had walked in the garden at La Lierre. "Who is there, please?" she asked again. "I can't see. What is it?" "It is I, Coira!" said Ste. Marie. And she gave a sharp cry.
Abruptly he gave a cry of dismay, and the girl looked up to him, staring. "But but you, Coira!" said he, stammering. "But you! I hadn't realized I hadn't thought it never occurred to me what this means to you." The full enormity of the thing came upon him slowly. He was asking this girl to help him in robbing her of her lover. She shook her head with a little wry smile.
The girl struggled weakly and pushed against him. Once more he heard whispering words and made out that she tried to say: "Go back to her! Go back to her! You belong there!" But at that he laughed aloud. "I thought so, too," said he, "but she thinks otherwise. She'll have none of me, Coira. It's Richard Hartley now. Coira, can you love a jilted man? I've been jilted thrown over dismissed."
Honoré, and it must have been at just about the time when Ste. Marie, concealed among the branches of his cedar, looked over the wall and saw Arthur Benham walking with Mlle. Coira O'Hara. Hartley had lunched at Durand's with his friends, whose name though it does not at all matter here was Reeves-Davis, and after lunch the four of them, Major and Lady Reeves-Davis, Reeves-Davis' sister, Mrs.
Her head fell back away from him, and he saw her eyes through half-closed lids, her white teeth through parted lips. She was trembling but, for that matter, so was he at the touch of her, the heavy and sweet burden in his arms. She tried to speak, and he heard a whisper: "Why? Why? Why?" "Because it is my place, Coira!" said he. "Because I cannot live away from you. Because we belong together."
He could not do a dishonorable thing even for all he held dearest. He walked on in the direction which lay before him, but he took no heed of where he went, and Mlle. Coira O'Hara spoke to him twice before he heard or saw her. They were near the east end of the rond point, in a space where fir-trees stood and the ground underfoot was covered with dry needles.
Word Of The Day