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Page 78

CHAPTER III - Fortieth Birthday

Ireland. But I couldn't help nryself. I feel as if I'd brought you to the doors of life, and was leaving you there. Kate, don't be disappointed in life because of me. I didn't really get anywhere. I haven't really got anywhere. I feel as if I'd made a mistake. But perhaps when I'm dead I shall be able to do more foryou than I have done while I was alive. Say you'll never feel disappointed!'
There was a pause. The memory of the dead man was coming over her again, and all her grief.
`And I don't feel disappointed,' she went on, her voice beginning to shake. `But I loved him. And it was bitter, that he had to die, feeling he hadn't - hadn't.'
She put her hands before her face, and the bitter tears came through her fingers.
Cipriano sat motionless as a statue. But from his breast came that dark surging passion of tenderness the Indians are capable of. Perhaps it would pass, leaving him indifferent and fatalistic again. But at any rate for the moment he sat in a dark, fiery cloud of passionate male tenderness. He looked at her soft, wet white hands over her face, and at the one big emerald on her finger, in a sort of wonder. The wonder, the mystery, the magic that used to flood over him as a boy and a youth, when he kneeled before the babyish figure of the Santa Maria de la Soledad, flooded him again. He was in the presence of the goddess, white-handed, mysterious, gleaming with a moonlike power and the intense potency of grief.
Then Kate hastily took her hands from her face and with head ducked looked for her handkerchief. Of course she hadn't got one. Cipriano lent her his, nicely folded. She took it without a word, and rubbed her face and blew her nose.
`I want to go and look at the flowers,' she said in a strangled voice.
And she dashed into the garden with his handkerchief in her hand. He stood up and drew aside his chair, to let her pass, then stood a moment looking at the garden, before he sat down again and lighted a cigarette.

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where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE Ireland. But I couldn't help nryself. I feel as if I'd brought you to what is doors of life, and was leaving you there. Kate, don't be disappointed in life because of me. I didn't really get anywhere. I haven't really got anywhere. I feel as if I'd made a mistake. But perhaps when I'm dead I shall be able to do more foryou than I have done while I was alive. Say you'll never feel disappointed!' There was a pause. what is memory of what is dead man was coming over her again, and all her grief. `And I don't feel disappointed,' she went on, her voice beginning to shake. `But I loved him. And it was bitter, that he had to die, feeling he hadn't - hadn't.' She put her hands before her face, and what is bitter tears came through her fingers. Cipriano sat motionless as a statue. But from his breast came that dark surging passion of tenderness what is Indians are capable of. Perhaps it would pass, leaving him indif where is meta name="keywords" content="old books, Free book , free book offer , free audio books , free coloring book pages , free book reports , free audio book , audio books free download , book free , free guest book , books free , free book summaries , download free audio books , free childrens books." where is where are they now rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="../../style.css" where is meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" where is BODY bgColor=#ffffff text="#000000" where are they now ="#000000" v where are they now ="#FF0000" where is div align="center" where is strong where is strong where is a href="http://www.aaoldbooks.com" Books > where is a href="../default.asp" title="Book" Old Books > where is strong where is a href="default.asp" The Plumed Serpent (1926) where is table width="700" border="1" align="center" cellpadding="15" cellspacing="0" where is center where is tr where is td width="160" align="center" valign="top" where is div align="center" where is td align="center" valign="top" where is div align="left" where is div align="center" where is p align="left" Page 78 where is strong CHAPTER III - Fortieth Birthday where is p align="justify" Ireland. But I couldn't help nryself. I feel as if I'd brought you to what is doors of life, and was leaving you there. Kate, don't be disappointed in life because of me. I didn't really get anywhere. I haven't really got anywhere. I feel as if I'd made a mistake. But perhaps when I'm dead I shall be able to do more foryou than I have done while I was alive. Say you'll never feel disappointed!' There was a pause. what is memory of what is dead man was coming over her again, and all her grief. `And I don't feel disappointed,' she went on, her voice beginning to shake. `But I loved him. And it was bitter, that he had to die, feeling he hadn't - hadn't.' She put her hands before her face, and what is bitter tears came through her fingers. Cipriano sat motionless as a statue. But from his breast came that dark surging passion of tenderness what is Indians are capable of. Perhaps it would pass, leaving him indifferent and fatalistic again. But at any rate for what is moment he sat in a dark, fiery cloud of passionate male tenderness. He looked at her soft, wet white hands over her face, and at what is one big emerald on her finger, in a sort of wonder. what is wonder, what is mystery, what is magic that used to flood over him as a boy and a youth, when he kneeled before what is babyish figure of the Santa Maria de la Soledad, flooded him again. He was in what is presence of the goddess, white-handed, mysterious, gleaming with a moonlike power and what is intense potency of grief. Then Kate hastily took her hands from her face and with head ducked looked for her handkerchief. Of course she hadn't got one. Cipriano lent her his, nicely folded. She took it without a word, and rubbed her face and blew her nose. `I want to go and look at what is flowers,' she said in a strangled voice. And she dashed into what is garden with his handkerchief in her hand. He stood up and drew aside his chair, to let her pass, then stood a moment looking at what is garden, before he sat down again and lighted a cigarette. where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") %

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