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Barclay, Florence L. (Florence Louisa), 1862-1921

"The White Ladies of Worcester A Romance of the Twelfth Century"


And wondering thus, she rose and moved with slow step to the terrace.
For a while she stood pondering this hard question, her eyes lifted to
the distant hills.
Then something impelled her to turn and glance into the banqueting
hall, and there--on the spot where he had knelt that she might bless
him at parting--stood Hugh, his arms folded, his eyes fixed upon her,
waiting till she should see him.


CHAPTER LV
THE HEART OF A WOMAN
For a space, through the casement, they looked into one another's eyes;
she, standing in the full glory of the summer sunshine, a radiant
vision of glowing womanhood; he, in the shade of the banqueting-hall,
gaunt and travel-stained, yet in his eyes the light of that love which
never faileth. But, even as she looked, those dark eyes wavered,
shifted, turned away, as if he could not bear any longer to gaze upon
her in the sunlight.
An immense pity filled Mora's heart. She knew he was going to fail
her; yet the pathos of that failure lay in the fact that it was the
very force of his love which rendered the temptation so insuperable.
Swiftly she passed into the banqueting hall, went to him where he
stood, put up her arms about his neck, and lifted her lips to his.
"I thank God, my beloved," she said, "that He hath brought thee in
safety back to me."
Hugh's arms, flung around her, strained her to him. But he kept his
head erect. The muscles of his neck were like iron bands under her
fingers.


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