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Hayward, Rachel

"The Hippodrome"

"

"C'est bien vrai ca! I used to sing it without thinking at one time.
How alike all those songs are. Always Death;--Death and Liberty!"
"Don't talk of those things, dear. It's going to be Life for both of
us--after to-morrow."
"I was thinking of poor Emile."
"He was always fond of you. He'll be glad when he hears you're married
and safe."
"Yes, he'll be glad. Don't talk any more for a minute, dear, then just
say _au revoir_ to me and go as quickly as you can. I want to be
quiet. It's good to be loved. How gentle you are! Emile was always
so rough when he touched me."
Vardri hung over her, caressing her with infinite tenderness. Of all
men in the world he was surely the happiest to have known this sweet
and womanly Arithelli, the Arithelli that no one else had ever seen.
He kissed the heavy, closed lids and stroked back the hair from her
forehead.
A faint intoxicating odour of jasmine hovered about her, for she was
Eastern in her love of perfumes. The stifling, dirty hut became a
Paradise while she lay thus in his arms.


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