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Beach, Rex Ellingwood, 1877-1949

"Heart of the Sunset"

But for some reason the words lay unspoken upon his tongue.
Alaire's informal greeting, her parted lips, the welcoming light
in her eyes, had sent them flying. It seemed to him that the dim
half-light which illumined this nook emanated from her face and
her person, that the fragrance which came to his nostrils was the
perfume of her breath, and at the prompting of these thoughts all
his smothered longings rose as if at a signal. As mutinous
prisoners in a jail delivery overpower their guards, so did Dave's
long-repressed emotions gain the upper hand of him now, and so
swift was their uprising that he could not summon more than a
feeble, panicky resistance.
The awkwardness of the pause which followed Alaire's inquiry
strengthened the rebellious impulses within him, and quite
unconsciously his friendly grasp upon her fingers tightened. For
her part, as she saw this sudden change sweep over him, her own
face altered and she felt something within her breast leap into
life. No woman could have failed to read the meaning of his sudden
agitation, and, strange to say, it worked a similar state of
feeling in Alaire. She strove to control herself and to draw away,
but instead found that her hand had answered his, and that her
eyes were flashing recognition of his look.


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