Unmarked6698
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
Mona, in spite of her haste, stoops to pluck a bunch of violets and place them in her breast, as she goes upon her way. Up to this the beauty of the early spring day has drawn her out of herself, and compelled her to forget her errand. But as she comes near to the place appointed for the interview, a strange repugnance to go forward and face Paul Rodney makes her steps slower and her eyes heavy. And even as she comprehends how strongly she shrinks from the meeting with him, she looks up and sees the chestnut-tree in front of her, and the stream rushing merrily to the ocean, and Paul Rodney standing in his favorite attitude with his arms folded and his sombre eyes fixed eagerly upon her. Sleep, even when she does get to bed, refuses to settle upon Mona's eyelids. During the rest of the long hours that mark the darkness she lies wide awake, staring upon vacancy, and thinking ceaselessly until Standing with his back to her (being unaware of her entrance), looking at the wall with the smaller panels that had so attracted him the night of the dance, is Paul Rodney!.
453 people found this
review helpful
kez_ h (Kez_h)
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
"Do you mean that you would really miss me if I left you for only one day?" he asks, delightedly. "Mona, tell me the truth."I tried logging in using my phone number and I
was supposed to get a verification code text,but didn't
get it. I clicked resend a couple time, tried the "call
me instead" option twice but didn't get a call
either. the trouble shooting had no info on if the call
me instead fails.There was
"Well; there isn't much, is there?" says Mona, pleasantly.
658 people found this
review helpful
Conrad
"Very." It is growing dusk; "the shades of night are falling fast," the cold pale sun, that all day long has cast its chill October beams upon a leafless world, has now sunk behind the distant hill, and the sad silence of the coming night hath set her finger with deep touch upon creation's brow. Flattery goes a long way with most men, but in this instance the subtle poison touches Mr. Rodney even more than it pleases him. He presses the hand that rests upon his arm an eighth of an inch nearer to his heart than it was before, if that be possible. Her face betrays more than she knows..
298 people found this
review helpful