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Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
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Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
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Carrie looked at him with the tenderness which virtue ever feels in its hope of reclaiming vice. How could such a man need reclaiming? His errors, what were they, that she could correct? Small they must be, where all was so fine. At worst, they were gilded affairs, and with what leniency are gilded errors viewed. He put himself in such a lonely light that she was deeply moved. "Is it that way?" she mused. He slipped his arm about her waist, and she could not find the heart to draw away. With his free hand he seized upon her fingers. A breath of soft spring wind went bounding over the road, rolling some brown twigs of the previous autumn before it. The horse paced leisurely on, unguided. "Tell me," he said, softly, "that you love me." Her eyes fell consciously. "Own to it, dear," he said, feelingly; "you do, don’t you?" She made no answer, but he felt his victory. "Tell me," he said, richly, drawing her so close that their lips were near together. He pressed her hand warmly, and then released it to touch her cheek. "You do?" he said, pressing his lips to her own. For answer, her lips replied. "Now," he said, joyously, his fine eyes ablaze, "you’re my own girl, aren’t you?" By way of further conclusion, her head lay softly upon his shoulder. |
