Beautiful! Why, yes,
they were famous eyes, famous the diocese through. How well she remembered
those years, long ago, when they had seemed to speak to her of every
conceivable tenderness and sweetness, and how, when he thus had bent over
her, she had stretched up her hand and found the buttons of his waistcoat
and pushed her fingers in, stroking his shirt and feeling his heart thump,
thump, and so warm beneath her touch.
Life! Life! What a cheat! What a cheat! She jumped from her chair, letting
the book drop upon the floor, and began to pace the room. And why should
not this, too, cheat her once again? With the tenderness, the poignancy
with which she now looked upon Morris so once she had looked upon Brandon.
Yes, that might be. She would cheat herself no longer. But she was older
now. This was the last chance to live--definitely, positively the last. It
was not the desire to be loved, this time, that drove her forward so
urgently as the desire to love. She knew that, because Falk would do. If
Falk would stay, would let her care for him and mother him and be with
him, she would drive Morris from her heart and brain.
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