SEARCH
0-9 A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Prev | Current Page 117 | Next

Oppenheim, E. Phillips (Edward Phillips), 1866-1946

"The Profiteers"


"You never shall," he continued, his voice gaining strength with his
rising hopes. "You've opened my lips and you must hear what is in my
heart. You are the one love of my life. My hours and days are empty, I
want you always by my side."
The love of him swept her away. Her head had fallen back, she saw his
face through the mist.
"Go on, go on," she begged.
"I want you as I have wanted nothing else in life--not only for my own
sake, for yours. I want to chase all those lines of sorrow away from
your face."
"My poor, tired face," she faltered.
"Tired?" he repeated. "It's the most beautiful face on earth."
The smile which suddenly transformed her quivering mouth made it
indeed seem so.
"You are so foolish, dear, but go on," she pleaded.
"I want to see you grow younger and lighter-hearted. I want you to
realise day by day that something beautiful is stealing into your life. I
want you to feel what real love is--tender, passionate, lover's love."
"My dear, my dear!" she cried. "I do not dare to think of these things,
yet they sound so wonderful."
"Leave the daring to me, sweetheart," he answered. "You shall have
nothing to do but rest after these horrible days, rest and care for me
a little."
"Oh, I do care!" she exclaimed, with sudden passion. "That is what makes
it all so wonderful.


Pages:
105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129