Already my hand was thrust into the bosom of my doublet, and my fingers
were about to drag forth that little shred of green velvet that I had found
in the coppice on the day of her abduction, and that I had kept ever since
as one keeps the relic of a departed saint. Another moment and I should
have poured out the story of the mad, hopeless passion that filled my heart
to bursting, when of a sudden--"Yvonne, Yvonne!" came Genevi?ve's fresh
voice from the other end of the terrace. The spell of that moment was
broken.
Methought Mademoiselle made a little gesture of impatience as she answered
her sister's call; then, with a word of apology, she left me.
Half dazed by the emotions that had made sport of me, I leaned over the
balustrade, and with my elbows on the stone and my chin on my palms, I
stared stupidly before me, thanking God for having sent Genevi?ve in time
to save me from again earning Mademoiselle's scorn. For as I grew sober I
did not doubt that with scorn she would have met the wild words that
already trembled on my lips.
I laughed harshly and aloud, such a laugh as those in Hell may vent.
Pages:
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204