Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 10, 2025
The asylum which was Marsa's prison was so constantly in his mind that he felt the necessity of flight, in order not to allow his weakness to get the bettor of him, lest he should attempt to see Marsa again. "What a coward I am!" he thought.
He remembered it all so well, and, nervously twisting his moustache, he longed for her to make her appearance. He listened for the frou-frou of Marsa's skirts on the other side of the lowered portiere which hung between the two rooms; but he heard no sound. The General had shaken hands with Michel, as he passed through the large salon, saying, in his thick voice: "Have you come to see Marsa?
Would to heaven I had planted a knife in his heart!" "Ah! My God!" murmured the Prince, as if stabbed himself. At this cry of bitter agony from Andras Zilah, Marsa's imprecations ceased; and she threw herself madly at his feet; while he stood erect and pale her judge.
It is not pity which is my virtue, Marsa: it is my love. For I love you!" Yes, he loved her, and with all the strength of a first and only love. He loved her so that he forgot everything, so that he did not see that in Marsa's smile there was a look of the other side of the great, eternal river.
In Marsa's large drawing-rooms, where glass and silver sparkled upon the snowy cloth, servants in livery awaited the return of the wedding-party. In a moment there was an assault, General Vogotzine leading the column.
As he gazed at her, a delicate flush spread over Marsa's pale, rather melancholy face, tingeing even her little, shell-like ears, and making her cheeks glow with the soft, warm color of a peach.
The woman, tall, dark and faded, a sort of turban upon her head, held out her hand toward Marsa's carriage with a graceful gesture and a broad smile the supplicating smile of those who beg.
She was coming toward Zilah; in a moment, he would be able to touch her, if he wished, through the leaves! Even Vogotzine held his breath. Zilah eagerly questioned Marsa's face, as if to read thereon a secret, to decipher a name Menko's or his own.
His eyes followed the direction of Marsa's, which were still riveted upon the piano with a dumb look of unutterable agony. He instantly seized the sealed package, and, holding it up, exclaimed: "One would think that it was this which troubled you!" "O Prince! I swear to you! "Prince?"
Or, at other times, with Duna and Bundas bounding before her, disappearing, returning, disappearing again with yelps of joy, it was Marsa's delight to wander alone under the great limes of the Albine avenue shade over her head, silence about her and then slowly, by way of a little alley bordered with lofty poplars trembling at every breath of wind, to reach the borders of the forest.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking