He paused on the threshold
and passed his hand over his eyes. Gila stood where the ruby light of
hearth and lamp would set her vivid dress on fire and light the jewels
at her throat and hair. She knew her clear skin, dark hair, and eyes
would bear the startling contrast, and how her white shoulders gleamed
from the crimson velvet. She knew how to arrange the flaming scarf of
gauze deftly about those white shoulders so that it would reveal more
than it concealed.
The young man lingered unaccountably. He had a sense of leaving
something behind him. Almost he hesitated as she came forward to greet
him, and looked back as if to rid himself of some obligation. Then she
put her bits of confiding hands out to him and smiled that wistful,
engaging smile that would have been worth a fortune on the screen.
He thrilled with wonder over her delicate, dazzling beauty; and felt the
luxury of the room about him, responding to its lure.
"So dandy of you to come to me when you are so busy after your long
illness." Her voice was soft and confiding, its cadences like soothing
music. She motioned him to a chair. "You see, I wanted to have you all
to myself for a little while, just to tell you how perfectly fine you
were at that awful fire."
She dropped upon the couch drawn out at just the right angle from the
fire and settled among the cushions gracefully. The flicker of the
firelight played upon the jeweled combs and gleamed at her throat.
Pages:
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37