Prev | Current Page 171 | Next

Blackwood, Algernon, 1869-1951

"The Extra Day"


"So long ago as that!" she murmured, happy with the exquisite belief
in him. "But you will never change or leave me--promise, oh, promise
that!"
His stalk grew nearer to her own. He leaned protectively towards her
eager face.
"Until that bud shall open fully to the light and smell its sweetest,"
he replied--the gesture of his petals told it plainly--"so long shall
you and I enjoy our happy love."
It was an eternity to them.
"And longer still," she pleaded.
"And longer still," he whispered in the wind. "Even until the blossom
falls."
Ah, it was good to be alive with such an age of happiness before them!
He felt the tears in her voice, however; he knew there was something
that she longed to tell.
"What is your sadness?" he asked softly, "and why do you put such
questions to me now? What is your little trouble?"
A moment's hesitation, a moment's hanging of the graceful head the
width of a petal's top nearer to his shoulder--and then she told him.
"I was in darkness for a time," she faltered, "but it was a long, long
time. It seemed that something came between us. I lost your face. I
felt afraid.


Pages:
159 160 161 162 163 164 165 166 167 168 169 170 171 172 173 174 175 176 177 178 179 180 181 182 183