And that's what I'm
going to do!"
To this declaration she offered no immediate reply,
but continued to gaze with a vaguely meditative air
upon the expanse of landscape spread below them.
He threw a hasty glance over the windows behind him,
and then with assurance passed his arm round her waist.
He could not say that there was any responsive yielding
to his embrace, but he did affirm to himself with
new conviction, as he looked down upon the fair small head
at his shoulder, with its lovely pale-brown hair drawn
softly over the temples, and its glimpse of the matchless
profile inclined beneath--that it was all right.
He waited for a long time, with a joyous patience,
for her to speak. The mere fact that she stood beneath
his engirdling arm, and gave no thought to the potential
servants'-eyes behind them, was enough for present happiness.
He regarded the illimitable picture commanded from his
terrace with refreshed eyes; it was once again the finest
view in England--and something much more than that beside.
At last, abruptly, she laughed aloud--a silvery,
amused little laugh under her breath. "How comedy and
tragedy tread forever on each other's heels!" she remarked.
Her tone was philosophically gay, but upon reflection
he did not wholly like her words.
"There wasn't any tragedy," he said, "and there isn't
any comedy.
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