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Updated: June 3, 2025
How is it called?" asked Duprez eagerly. "Njedegorze." The Frenchman shrugged his shoulders. "I give it up!" he said smilingly. "Mademoiselle Gueldmar, if anything happens to me at this cascade with the name unpronounceable, you will again be my doctor, will you not?" Thelma laughed as she shook hands with him.
There were times when Thelma, lost and amazed and overcome by the strength and sweetness of the nectar held to her innocent lips by a smiling and flame-winged Eros, would wonder vaguely whether she lived indeed, or whether she were not dreaming some gorgeous dream, too brilliant to last?
Then she considered how she should distinguish it by some mark that should attract her husband's attention toward it, and loosening from her neck a thin gold chain on which was suspended a small diamond cross with the names "Philip" and "Thelma" engraved at the back, she twisted it round the little book, and left it so that the sparkle of the jewels should be seen distinctly on the cover.
Most women, receiving an apparent proof of a husband's infidelity, would have made what is termed a "scene," would have confronted him with rage and tears, and personal abuse, but Thelma was too gentle for this, too gentle to resist what seemed to be Philip's wish and will, and far too proud to stay where it appeared evident she was not wanted.
And he laughed again, and snapped his fingers in her face. The woman shuddered violently. Step by step she drew near to the wondering Thelma, and spoke in low and trembling accents, without a trace of her former anger. "They say you are wicked," she said slowly, "and that the devil has your soul ready, before you are dead! But I am not afraid of you.
They decided to visit it the yacht was brought to a standstill, and the long-boat lowered. They took no sailors with them, Errington and his companions rowing four oars, while Thelma and her father occupied the stern. A landing was easily effected, and they walked toward the cavern, treading on thousands of beautiful little shells which strewed the sand beneath their feet.
"You are thinking unkindly of me just now," continued Clara softly; "but I felt it was my duty to tell you the worst at once. It's no good living in a delusion! I'm very, very sorry for you, Thelma!" Thelma remained perfectly silent. Lady Winsleigh moved towards the door, and as she opened it looked back at her.
The sight of the girl disappointed the eager visitors, for though she was undeniably pretty, she was not Thelma. She was short and plump, with rebellious nut-brown locks, that rippled about her face and from under her close white cap with persistent untidiness.
Errington said nothing; he recognized the tune as that which Thelma had sung at her spinning-wheel, and his bold bright eyes grew pensive and soft, as the picture of the fair face and form rose up again before his mind. Absorbed in a reverie, he almost started when Lorimer ceased playing, and said lightly "By-bye, boys! I'm off to bed!
It was ridiculous utterly ridiculous, and Madame sat fuming impatiently, and sniffing the air in wonder and scorn. Meanwhile Thelma, with flushing cheeks and lowered eyes, confided her difficulty to Philip, who surveyed the shocking little bodice she brought for his inspection with a gravely amused, but very tender smile. "There certainly doesn't seem much of it, does there, darling?" he said.
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