” She sat motionless, with her hand tightening over the edge of the table, and he, too, said no more. To even presume a lustful thought about her was to ask for one’s own death. ” “I am afraid,” she murmured, “that it would be difficult. ” He replied cheerfully. She was too delicate, too fragile to survive out there. One mistress enough to ruin a man,—two, the devil. The sun was setting, casting long dreary shadows across deformed apple trees. Her faculties seemed for a moment numbed. Before you have lived—” He became darkly prophetic. She was at the end of girlhood and on the eve of a woman’s crowning experience. A pair of startled blue eyes looked up into his.
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