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Updated: May 3, 2025
Here was primitive passion with a vengeance! passion which admitted its own craving without subterfuge. Manella's eyes were still uplifted in a kind of childlike confidence. "I am happy to love him!" she went on "I wish only to serve him.
As he spoke a sudden jagged flash of lightning tore the sky, followed almost instantaneously by a long, low snarl of thunder rolling through the valley. Great drops of rain began to fall. "Come along! Let us get in!" and Gwent caught Manella's hand "Run!"
He, in his priestly robes, read the marriage service with soft and impressive intonation, himself speaking the responses for the bride-groom, and taking Manella's hand he placed it on Seaton's, clasping the two together, the one so yielding and warm, the other stiff as marble, and setting the golden marriage ring which Morgana had given, on the bride's finger.
"I?" and Manella's eyes dilated with brilliant eagerness; "I will give my life for his! What can I do?" And then, with patient slowness and gentleness, little by little, Morgana told her all.
There's not a man that ever lived, or that ever will live, that's worth the death of a woman! That's so! Men think too much of themselves they've been killing women ever since they were born it's time they stopped a bit." Manella's beautiful eyes expressed bewilderment. "Killing women? Is that what they do?" "Yes, my good girl! that is what they do!
I don't mean that he's dangerous in that way, because though I might think him so, YOU wouldn't. No, what I mean is that he's dangerous to himself likely to run risks of his life " Here he paused, checked by the sudden terror in the beautiful eyes that stared at him. "His life!" and Manella's voice trembled "You think he is here to kill himself "
Morgana raised her eyes, glittering with the "fey" light in them that often bewildered and rather scared her friends. "You would be his woman? You are in love with him?" she said. Something in her look checked Manella's natural impulse to confide in one of her own sex. "No, I am not!" she answered coldly "I have said too much."
Manella's pitiful gazing on this ruin of the man to whom she had devoted her heart and soul, her tender sorrow, her yearning beauty, might have almost moved a stone image to a thrill of response, but not a flicker of expression appeared on the frozen features of that terrible fallen pillar of human self-sufficiency.
Manella's eyes grew darker than ever in the effort to explain her thought. "I do not know" she said, hesitatingly "But once here in this garden we found a wonderful butterfly with white wings all white, and it was resting on a scarlet flower. We all went out to look at it, because it was unlike any other butterfly we had ever seen, its wings were like velvet or swansdown.
Swiftly and silently Morgana went to her side, and taking her outstretched arms put them round her own neck. "Manella!" she said, tenderly "Dear, beautiful Manella! Do you know me?" The great loving eyes rested on her with glowing warmth and pleasure. "Indeed I know you!" and Manella's voice, weak as that of a sick child, sounded ever so far away "The little white lady of my dreams!
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