"Would you like me to marry and go away and leave you?" asked
Carlotta, after a long pause.
"I suppose," I said with a sigh, "that some tin-pot knight will
drive up one of these days to the castle in a hansom-cab and
carry off my princess."
"Then you'll be sorry?"
"My dear," I answered, "do not let us discuss such gruesome
things on an afternoon like this."
"You would like better for me to go on playing at being your
Turkish wife?"
"Infinitely," said I.
Alas! The day is sped. I have asked the fleeting moment to
tarry, and it laughed, and shook its gossamer wings at me, and
flew by on its mad race into eternity.
As we lay, a cicada set up its shrilling quite close to us. I
slipped my head from Carlotta's lap and idly parted the rank
grass in search of the noisy intruder, and by good luck I found
him. I beckoned Carlotta, who glided down, and there, with our
heads together and holding our breath, we watched the queerest
little love drama imaginable. Our cicada stood alert and spruce,
waving his antenna with a sort of cavalier swagger, and every now
and then making his corslet vibrate passionately.
Pages:
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234