Prev | Current Page 409 | Next

Walpole, Hugh, Sir, 1884-1941

"The Cathedral"

I haven't anybody. Has
God given me so much that I should miss this? And has He put it in our
hearts if He didn't mean us to take it? I love you. I've loved you since
first I set eyes on you. I can't keep away from you any longer. It's
keeping away from myself. We're one. We are one another--not alone,
either of us--any more...."
She turned towards him. He drew her closer and closer to him. With a
little sigh of happiness and comfort she yielded to him.
* * * * *
There was only one cloud in the dim green sky, a cloud orange and crimson,
shaped like a ship. As the sun was setting, a little wind stirred, the
faint aftermath of the storm of the day, and the cloud, now all crimson,
passed over the town and died in fading ribbons of gold and orange in the
white sky of the far horizon.
Only Miss Milton, perhaps, among all the citizens of the town, waiting
patiently behind her open window, watched its career.


Chapter IX
The Quarrel

Every one has known, at one time or another in life, that strange
unexpected calm that always falls like sudden snow on a storm-tossed
country, after some great crisis or upheaval.


Pages:
397 398 399 400 401 402 403 404 405 406 407 408 409 410 411 412 413 414 415 416 417 418 419 420 421