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Updated: May 12, 2025
"Come," said Helen, re-entering, and the curate rose and followed her. The moment he turned the corner of the bed and saw the face on the pillow, he knew in his soul that Helen was right, and that that was no wicked youth who lay before him one, however, who might well have been passion-driven. There was the dark complexion and the great soft yet wild eyes that came of tropical blood.
Cameron grew acutely conscious of the pang in his own breast, of the fire in his heart, the strife and torment of his passion-driven soul. He had come into the desert to remember a woman. She appeared to him then as she had looked when first she entered his life a golden-haired girl, blue-eyed, white-skinned, red-lipped, tall and slender and beautiful.
"Come," said Helen, re-entering, and the curate rose and followed her. The moment he turned the corner of the bed and saw the face on the pillow, he knew in his soul that Helen was right, and that that was no wicked youth who lay before him one, however, who might well have been passion-driven. There was the dark complexion and the great soft yet wild eyes that came of tropical blood.
From first to last he remained the same short-sighted, passion-driven, impetuous despot and finally the evil possibilities of the situation weighed so heavily on Shigemori's nerves that he publicly repaired to a temple to pray for release from life. As though in answer to his prayer he was attacked by a disease which carried him off at the age of forty-two.
"Shaws the fairness of things, Clem; how the poor may chance to have what the rich caan't buy; so all look to stand equal." "Fairness, you call it? The damned, cynical irony of this whole passion-driven puppet-show that's what it shows! The man who is loved cannot marry the woman he loves lest they both starve; the man who can give a woman half the world is loathed for his pains.
He did not often act upon impulse, though his actions were often those attempted only by passion-driven or impulsive folk. Prosper could never plead thoughtlessness. He justified carefully his every action to himself. Those were cold, dark hours of deliberation as he let the wind drive him across the desolate land.
"If you can so work upon your delicate surface as to mould it close to your noble soul; if in the gallery of the world you can unveil yourself for a thousand pair of eyes to see, and praise God for the right to see why, what an artist you are, and what an audience you have! ... Like a whiff of thyme on a grassy down, like the breath of violets from a bank, or of bean-flower blown across a dusty hedge, some gentle exhalation of your soul sighed through your body will hint to the passion-driven wretch things innocent and quiet.
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