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Updated: May 31, 2025
And Beltran, suddenly pulling up with a fierce rein, does catch him, bestows him with Vivia, slightly to her dainty discomfort, and dashes on. Noon deepens; Vivia does not sleep, she seeks Ray, Ray who does not sleep either, but who is not to be beguiled.
He thought of Vivia sitting far away and looking out upon the quiet starlight night; then he thought of swampy midnight lairs, with maddened men in fevered covert there, of little children crying for their mothers, of girls betrayed to hell, of flesh and blood at price, of blistering, crisping fagot and stake to-day, of all the anguish and despair down there before him.
Ray turned, his eyes wet, his face beaming. Said he, "I am more glad than if it were myself!" Then Vivia bent, and, flushed with noble shame, she kissed him on the lips. A word, a grasp, she was leaning alone over the old stone wall, the birds were piping and fluting about her, and Ray was gone.
"It's a wonderful region for grasshoppers out there, you know; you'd improvise us such charming dishes of locusts and wild honey! As for cookies, a snowflake and a sunbeam, and there they are," said Ray, making inroads on the Fort-Riley stores; while little Jane set down a cup of beaten cream by his side. "Janets are trumps! Vivia, don't you wish you were going to the war?" "Yes," said Vivia.
Did you speak to the butterflies to hatch them under their yellow wings? I shall just tie you to an old shoe!" And taking the winking, blinking culprits from Kay, she ran along home to make ready his package, for which there was not more than an hour left. Vivia turned to follow, for she also wanted to help; but Ray, lingering by the wall and pointing out some object, caused her to remain.
So the cold weather wore away, and spring stole into the scene like a surprise, finding Vivia as the winter found her, but Ray still undergoing volcanic changes, now passionless lulls and now rages and spasms of grief: gradually out of them all he gathered his strength about him.
And Vivia saw that all this beating and longing and burning had loosened and shot into manhood a nature that under the snow of its eightieth winter would yet be that of a boy.
Then the two martyrs gave each other the kiss of peace, and a gladiator killed them." Timokles paused once more. Still no response. "I remember hearing one thing more concerning Vivia Perpetua," ventured Timokles. "In prison she had had a vision. She thought she saw a golden ladder stretching up to heaven, and on either side of the ladder were swords, and spears, and knives.
Still, as Vivia gazed into the silent mirror, the salient points of her life started up as if memory held a torch to them in their dark recesses, and another picture printed its frosty spiculæ upon the gray surface of the glass before her.
"Well, you only love half of it, the Southern half." "I love my whole country!" cried Vivia, all aflame. "I love these purple, rust-stained granites here, the great savannas there, the pine forests, the sea-like prairies, every river rolling down its rocky bed, every inch of its beautiful, glorious soil, all its proud, free people. I love my whole country!" "Only you hate some of its parasites.
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