The roll of dark hair framed her face,
highbred, aristocratic, yet wholly human and sweet. Gravity sat on
all her features; a woman for thought, said they. A woman for
dreams; so declared the fineness of brow and temple and cheek and
chin, the hand--which, lifted now for an instant, lingered at her
throat. But a woman for love! so said every throb of the pulse of
the man regarding her. And now, most of all, pity of her just
because she was woman was the thought first in his soul. Already
he was beginning to pay, and as she had said!
"You don't answer me," said he, at length, gently. "I can imagine
your ambitions; but I don't learn enough of _you_."
"No," said she, with a deep breath. "As you said, we part, each
with secrets untold. To you, I am of no consequence. Very well.
I was born, no matter where, but free and equal to yourself, I
fancy. I came here in the pursuit of life and liberty, and of the
days of my remaining unhappiness. I suppose this must be your
answer.
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