Now it was a rich breath, a resonant thread,
"Flow gently, sweet Afton--"
The man stepped across the room and sank below the General at her
feet. With her finger on her lips she turned her eyes to his and
looked deep into them. He caught his breath with a sob, and wrapping
his arm about her as he knelt, hid his face on her lap, against the
General. She laid her hand on his head, across the warm little body,
and patted it tenderly. Around them lay the sleepers; the General's
soft breath was in their ears. The man lifted his head and looked
adoringly at the Princess: her hand caressed his cheek, but her eyes
looked beyond him into the future.
III
THE PRIZE
Caroline sniffed her way luxuriously through the dusky panelled
library.
"I think it smells awfully good here, don't you?" she inquired of
her hostess.
The lady's wonderful velvet train dragged listlessly behind her. Her
neck and arms were dressed in heavy yellowish lace, but all around
her slim body waves of deep colored, soft velvet held the light in
lustrous pools or darkened into almost black shadows. It was like
stained glass in a church, thought Caroline, stroking it
surreptitiously, and like stained glass, too, were the lovely books,
bloody red, grassy green and brown, like Autumn woods, with edges of
gold when the sunlight struck them.
Pages:
48
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