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Gregory, Jackson, 1882-1943

"The Bells of San Juan"

My
estates will run down to the blue water of the Gulf; I shall have my
own fleet of ocean-going yachts; there is a port upon my own land.
There will be a home overlooking the sea like a king's palace. Will
you think of all that while I am gone? Will you think of me a little,
too? Will you remember that my little kingdom is crying out for its
queen? . . . No; I am not asking you to answer me now. I am just
asking that you hold this as our secret until I come back. Until I
come back for you! . . . I shall stand here until you reach your
home," he broke off suddenly. "Good night, my dear."
"Good night," said Florence faintly, a little dazed by all that he had
said to her. Then, running through the shadows to her home, she was
thinking of the boy who had wished to propose to her and of the man who
had done so; of Elmer's little home upon the knoll surrounded by a cow,
a horse, and some pigs . . . and of a big house like a palace looking
out to sea across the swaying masts of white-sailed, sea-going yachts!


CHAPTER XXI
A CRISIS
Like Norton, Virginia found life simplifying itself in a crisis. Upon
three hundred and sixty days or more of the average year each
individual has before him scores of avenues open to his thoughts or to
his act; he may turn wheresoever he will.


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