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Keyes, Frances Parkinson, 1885-1970

"The Old Gray Homestead"


"Austin--I'm--I'm sorry--I do--beg your forgiveness from the bottom of my
heart. I promise--and I'll keep my promise--to be reasonable--and
kind--and fair--to stop making you miserable. It's been all my fault that
we've quarrelled, every bit--and we never will again. I've come to tell
you--not just that I'll go to the party with you, gladly, if you're still
willing to take me, but that there's nothing that matters to me in the
whole world--except you--"
The first touch of Sylvia's arms set Austin's brain seething; after the
hungry misery of the past few days, it acted like wine offered to a
starving man, suddenly snatched and drunk. Her words, her tears, her
utter self-abandonment of voice and manner, annihilated in one instant
the restraint in which he had held himself for months. He caught the
delicate little creature to him with all his strength, burying his face
in the white fragrance of her neck. He forgot everything in the world
except that she was in his arms--alone with him--that nothing was to come
between them again as long as they lived.


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