The Magic Circle
The persistent chirping of a sparrow made it almost harder to bear. LadyBrooke finally rose abruptly from the table, her black brows drawn closetogether, and swept to the window to scare the intruder away."I really have not the smallest idea what your objections can be," sheobserved, pausing with her back to the room."A little exercise of your imagination might be of some assistance toyou," returned her husband dryly, not troubling to raise his eyes fromhis paper.He was leaning back in a chair in an attitude of unstudied ease. It wascharacteristic of Sir Roland Brooke to make himself physicallycomfortable at least, whatever his mental atmosphere. He seldom raisedhis voice, and never swore. Yet there was about him a certain amount offorce that made itself felt more by his silence than his speech.His young wife, though she shrugged her shoulders and lookedcontemptuous, did not venture upon open defiance."I am to decline the invitation, then?" she asked presently, withoutturning."Certainly!" Sir Roland again made leisurely reply as he scanned thepage before him."And give as an excuse that you are too staunch a Tory to approve ofsuch an innovation as the waltz?""You may give any excuse that you consider suitable," he returned withunruffled composure."I know of none," she answered, with a quick vehemence that trembled onthe edge of rebellion.Sir Roland turned very slowly in his chair and regarded the delicateoutline of his wife's figure against the window-frame."Then, my dear," he said very deliberately, "let me recommend you oncemore to have recourse to your ever romantic imagination!"She quivered, and clenched her hands, as if goaded beyond endurance."You do not treat me fairly," she murmured under her breath.Sir Roland continued to look at her with the air of a naturalistexamining an interesting specimen of his cult. He said nothing till,driven by his scrutiny, she turned and faced him."What is your complaint?" he asked then.She hesitated for an instant. There was doubt--even a hint offear--upon her beautiful face. Then, with a certain recklessness, shespoke:"I have been accustomed to freedom of action all my life. I neverdreamed, when I married you, that I should be called upon to sacrificethis."Her voice quivered. She would not meet his eyes. Sir Roland sat andpassively regarded her. His face expressed no more than a detached andwaning interest."I am sorry," he said finally, "that the romance of your marriage hasceased to attract you. But I was not aware that its hold upon you wasever very strong."Lady Brooke made a quick movement, and broke into a light laugh."It certainly did not fall upon very fruitful ground," she said. "It isscarcely surprising that it did not flourish."Sir Roland made no response. The interest had faded entirely from hisface. He looked supremely bored.Lady Brooke moved towards the door."It seems to be your pleasure to thwart me at every turn," she said. "Alabourer's wife has more variety in her existence than I.""Infinitely more," said Sir Roland, returning to his paper. "Alabourer's wife, my dear, has an occasional beating to chasten herspirit, and she is considerably the better for it."His wife stood still, very erect and queenly."Not only the better, but the happier," she said very bitterly. "Even adog would rather be beaten than kicked to one side."Sir Roland lowered his paper again with startling suddenness."Is that your point of view?" he said. "Then I fear I have beenneglecting my duty most outrageously. However, it is an omission easilyremedied. Let me hear no more of this masquerade, Lady Brooke! You havemy orders, and if you transgress them you will be punished in a fashionscarcely to your liking. Is that clearly understood?"He looked straight up at her with cold, smiling eyes that yet seemed toconvey a steely warning.She shivered very slightly as she encountered them. "You make a mockeryof everything," she said, her voice very low.Sir Roland uttered a quiet laugh."I am nevertheless a man of my word, Naomi," he said. "If you wish totest me, you have your opportunity."He immersed himself finally in his paper as he ended, and she, with asmile of proud contempt, turned and passed from the room.She had married him out of pique, it was true, but life with him hadnever seemed intolerable until he had shown her that he knew it.She took her invitation with her, and in her own room sat down to readit once again. It was from a near neighbour, Lady Blythebury, anacquaintance with whom she was more intimate than was Sir Roland. LadyBlythebury was a very lively person indeed. She had been on the stage inher young days, and she had decidedly advanced ideas on the subject ofsocial entertainment. As a hostess, she was notorious for heroriginality and energy, and though some of the county familiesdisapproved of her, she always knew how to secure as many guests as shedesired. Lady Brooke had known her previous to her own marriage, and sheclung to this friendship, notwithstanding Sir Roland's very obvious lackof sympathy.He knew Lord Blythebury in the hunting-field. Their properties adjoined,and it was inevitable that certain courtesies should be exchanged. Buthe refused so steadily to fall a captive to Lady Blythebury's bow andspear, that he very speedily aroused her aversion. He soon realised thather influence over his wife was very far from benevolent towardshimself, but, save that he persisted in declining all social invitationsto Blythebury, he made no attempt to counteract the evil. In fact, itwas not his custom to coerce her. He denied her very little, though withregard to that little he was as adamant.But to Naomi his non-interference was many a time more galling than hisinterdiction. It was but seldom that she attempted to oppose him, and,save that Lady Blythebury's masquerade had been discussed between themfor weeks, she would not have greatly cared for his refusal to attendit. When Sir Roland asserted himself, it was her habit to yield withoutargument.But now, for the first time, she asked herself if he were not presumingupon her wifely submission. He would think more of her if she resistedhim, whispered her hurt pride, recalling the courteous indifferencewhich it was his custom to mete out to her. But dared she do thisthing?She took up the invitation again and read it. It was to be a fancy-dressball, and all were to wear masks. The waltz which she had learned todance from Lady Blythebury herself and which was only just coming intovogue in England, was to be one of the greatest features of the evening.There would be no foolish formality, Lady Blythebury had assured her.The masks would preclude that. Altogether the whole entertainmentpromised to be of so entrancing a nature that she had permitted herselfto look forward to it with considerable pleasure. But she might haveguessed that Sir Roland would refuse to go, she reflected, as she sat inher dainty room with the invitation before her. Did he ever attend anyfunction that was not so stiff and dull that she invariably pined todepart from the moment of arrival?Again she read the invitation, recalling Lady Blythebury's gay wordswhen last they had talked the matter over."If only Una could come without the lion for once!" she had said.And she herself had almost echoed the wish. Sir Roland always spoilteverything.Well!--She took up her pen. She supposed she must refuse. A moment ithovered above the paper. Then, very slowly, it descended and began towrite.* * *The chatter of many voices and the rhythm of dancing feet, the strainsof a string-band in the distance, and, piercing all, the clear, highnotes of a flute, filled the spring night with wonderful sound. LadyBlythebury had turned her husband's house into a fairy palace ofdelight. She stood in the doorway of the ballroom, her florid facebeaming above her Elizabethan ruffles, looking in upon the gay andever-shifting scene which she had called into being."I feel as if I had stepped into an Arabian Night," she laughed to oneof her guests, who stood beside her. He was dressed as a court jester,and carried a wand which he flourished dramatically. He wore aclose-fitting black mask."There is certainly magic abroad," he declared, in a rich, Irish broguethat Lady Blythebury smiled to hear. For she also was Irish to thebackbone."You know something of the art yourself, Captain Sullivan?" she asked.She knew the man for a friend of her husband's. He was more or lessdisreputable, she believed, but he was none the less welcome on thataccount. It was just such men as he who knew how to make things asuccess. She relied upon the disreputable more than she would haveadmitted."Egad, I'm no novice in most things!" declared the court jester, wavinghis wand bombastically. "But it's the magic of a pretty woman that I'mafter at the present moment. These masks, Lady Blythebury, are uncommoninconvenient. It's yourself that knows better than to wear one. Sure,beauty should never go veiled."Lady Blythebury laughed indulgently. Though she knew it for what it was,the fellow's blarney was good to hear."Ah, go and dance!" she said. "I've heard all that before. It nevermeans anything. Go and dance with the little lady over there in the pinkdomino! I give you my word that she is pretty. Her name is Una, but sheis minus the lion on this occasion. I shall tell you no more than that.""Egad! It's more than enough!" said the court jester, as he bowed andmoved away.The lady indicated stood alone in the curtained embrasure of abay-window. She was watching the dancers with an absorbed air, and didnot notice his approach.He drew near, walking with a free swagger in time to the hauntingwaltz-music. Reaching her, he stopped and executed a sweeping bow, hishand upon his heart."May I have the pleasure--"She looked up with a start. Her eyes shone through her mask with amomentary irresolution as she bent in response to his bow.With scarcely a pause he offered her his arm."You dance the waltz?"She hesitated for a second; then, with an affirmatory murmur, acceptedthe proffered arm. The bold stare with which he met her look had in itsomething of compulsion.He led her instantly away from her retreat, and in a moment his hand wasupon her waist. He guided her into the gay stream of dancers without aword.They began to waltz--a dream--waltz in which she seemed to float withouteffort, without conscious volition. Instinctively she responded to histouch, keenly, vibrantly aware of the arm that supported her, of thedark, free eyes that persistently sought her own."Faith!" he suddenly said in his soft, Irish voice. "To find Una withoutthe lion is a piece of good fortune I had scarcely prayed for. And whatwas the persuasion that you used at all to keep the monster in his den?"She glanced up, half-startled by his speech. What did this man knowabout her?"If you mean my husband," she said at last, "I did not persuade him. Henever wished or intended to come."Her companion laughed as one well pleased."Very generous of him!" he commented, in a tone that sent the blood toher cheeks.He guided her dexterously among the dancers. The girl's breath camequickly, unevenly, but her feet never faltered."If I were the lion," said her partner daringly, "by the powers, I'dplay the part! I wouldn't be a tame beast, egad! If Una went out to afancy ball, my faith, I would go too!"Lady Brooke uttered a little, excited laugh. The words caught herinterest."And suppose Una went without your leave?" she said.The Irishman looked at her with a humorous twist at one corner of hismouth."I'm thinking that I'd still go too," he said."But if you didn't know?" She asked the question with a curiousvehemence. Her instinct told her that, however he might profess totrifle, here at least was a man."That wouldn't happen," he said, with conviction, "if I were the lion."The music was quickening to the finale, and she felt the strong armgrow tense about her."Come!" he said. "We will go into the garden."She went with him because it seemed that she must, but deep in her heartthere lurked a certain misgiving. There was an almost arrogant air ofpower about this man. She wondered what Sir Roland would say if he knew,and comforted herself almost immediately with the reflection that henever could know. He had gone to Scotland, and she did not expect himback for several weeks.So she turned aside with this stranger, and passed out upon his arm intothe dusk of the soft spring night."You know these gardens well?" he questioned.She came out of her meditations."Not really well. Lady Blythebury and I are friends, but we do not visitvery often.""And that but secretly," he laughed, "when the lion is absent?" She didnot answer him, and he continued after a moment: "'Pon my life, thevery mention of him seems to cast a cloud. Let us draw a magic circle,and exclude him!" He waved his wand. "You knew that I was a magician?"There was a hint of something more than banter in his voice. They hadreached the end of the terrace, and were slowly descending the steps.But at his last words, Lady Brooke stood suddenly still."I only believe in one sort of magic," she said, "and that is beyond thereach of all but fools."Her voice quivered with an almost passionate disdain. She was suddenlyaware of an intense burning misery that seemed to gnaw into her verysoul. Why had she come out with this buffoon, she wondered? Why had shecome to the masquerade at all? She was utterly out of sympathy with itsfestive gaiety. A great and overmastering desire for solitude descendedupon her. She turned almost angrily to go.But in the same instant the jester's hand caught her own."Even so, lady," he said. "But the magic of fools has led to paradisebefore now."She laughed out bitterly:"A fool's paradise!""Is ever green," he said whimsically. "Faith, it's no place at all forcynics. Shall we go hand in hand to find it then--in case you miss theway?"She laughed again at the quaint adroitness of his speech. But her lipswere curiously unsteady, and she found the darkness very comforting.There was no moon, and the sky was veiled. She suffered the strong claspof his fingers about her own without protest. What did it matter--forjust one night?"Where are we going?" she asked."Wait till we get there!" murmured her companion. "We are just withinthe magic circle. Una has escaped from the lion."She felt turf beneath her feet, and once or twice the brushing of twigsagainst her hand. She began to have a faint suspicion as to whither hewas leading her. But she would not ask a second time. She had yielded tohis guidance, and though her heart fluttered strangely she would notseem to doubt. The dread of Sir Roland's displeasure had receded to theback of her mind. Surely there was indeed magic abroad that night! Itseemed diffused in the very air she breathed. In silence they movedalong the dim grass path. From far away there came to them fitfully thesound of music, remote and wonderful, like straying echoes of paradise.A soft wind stirred above them, lingering secretly among opening leaves.There was a scent of violets almost intoxicatingly sweet.The silence seemed magnetic. It held them like a spell. Through it,vague and intangible as the night at first, but gradually takingdefinite shape, strange thoughts began to rise in the girl's heart.She had consented to this adventure from sheer lack of purpose. Butwhither was it leading her? She was a married woman, with her shacklesheavy upon her. Yet she walked that night with a stranger, as one whoowned her freedom. The silence between them was intimate and wonderful,the silence which only kindred spirits can ever know. It possessed hermagically, making her past life seem dim and shadowy, and the presentonly real.And yet she knew that she was not free. She trespassed on forbiddenground. She tasted the forbidden fruit, and found it tragically sweet.Suddenly and softly he spoke:"Does the magic begin to work?"She started and tried to stop. Surely it were wiser to go back while shehad the will! But he drew her forward still. The mist overhead wasfaintly silver. The moon was rising."We will go to the heart of the tangle," he said. "There is nothing tofear. The lion himself could not frighten you here."Again she yielded to him. There was a suspicion of raillery in his voicethat strangely reassured her. The grasp of his hand was very close."We are in the maze," she said at last, breaking her silence. "Are yousure of the way?"He answered her instantly with complete self-assurance."Like the heart of a woman, it's hard, that it is, to find. But I thinkI have the key. And if not, by the saints, I'm near enough now to breakthrough."The words thrilled her inexplicably. Truly the magic was swift andpotent. A few more steps, and she was aware of a widening of the hedge.They were emerging into the centre of the maze."Ah," said the jester, "I thought I should win through!"He led her forward into the shadow of a great tree. The mist was passingvery slowly from the sky. By the silvery light that filtered down fromthe hidden moon Naomi made out the strong outline of his shoulders as hestood before her, and the vague darkness of his mask.She put up her free hand and removed her own. The breeze had died down.The atmosphere was hushed and airless."Do you know the way back?" she asked him, in a voice that soundedunnatural even to herself."Do you want to go back, then?" he queried keenly.There was something in his tone--a subtle something that she had notdetected before. She began to tremble. For the first time, actual feartook hold of her."You must know the way back!" she exclaimed. "This is folly! They willbe wondering where we are.""Faith, Lady Una! It is the fool's paradise," he told her coolly. "Theywill not wonder. They know too well that there is no way back."His manner terrified her. Its very quietness seemed a menace.Desperately she tore herself from his hold, and turned to escape. But itwas as though she fled in a nightmare. Whichever way she turned she metonly the impenetrable ramparts of the hedge that surrounded her. Shecould find neither entrance nor exit. It was as though the way by whichshe had come had been closed behind her.But the brightness above was growing. She whispered to herself that shewould soon be able to see, that she could not be a prisoner for long.Suddenly she heard her captor close to her, and, turning in terror, shefound him erect and dominating against the hedge. With a tremendouseffort she controlled her rising panic to plead with him."Indeed, I must go back!" she said, her voice unsteady, but very urgent."I have already stayed too long. You cannot wish to keep me here againstmy will?"She saw him shrug his shoulders slightly."There is no way back," he said, "or, if there is, I do not know it."There was no dismay in his voice, but neither was there exultation. Hesimply stated the fact with absolute composure. Her heart gave a wildthrob of misgiving. Was the man wholly sane?Again she caught wildly at her failing courage, and drew herself up toher full height. Perhaps she might awe him, even yet."Sir," she said, "I am Sir Roland Brooke's wife. And I--""Egad!" he broke in banteringly, "that was yesterday. You are freeto-day. I have brought you out of bondage. We have found paradisetogether, and, my pretty Lady Una, there is no way back.""But there is, there is!" she cried desperately. "And I must find it! Itell you I am Sir Roland Brooke's wife. I belong to him. No one can keepme from him!"It was as though she beat upon an iron door."There is no way out of the magic circle," said the jester inexorably.A white shaft of light illumined the mist above them, revealing thegirl's pale face, making sinister the man's masked one. He seemed to besmiling. He bent towards her."You seem amazingly fond of your chains," he said softly. "And yet, fromwhat I have heard, Sir Roland is no gentle tyrant. How is it, prettyone? What makes you cling to your bondage so?""He is my husband!" she said, through white lips."Faith, that is no answer," he declared. "Own, now, that you hate him,that you loathe his presence and shudder at his touch! I told you I wasa magician, Lady Una; but you wouldn't believe me at all."She confronted him with a sudden fury that marvellously reinforced herfailing courage."You lie, sir!" she cried, stamping passionately upon the soft earth. "Ido none of these things. I have never hated him. I have never shrunkfrom his touch. We have not understood each other, perhaps, but that isa different matter, and no concern of yours.""He has not made you happy," said the jester persistently. "You willnever go back to him now that you are free!""I will go back to him!" she cried stormily. "How dare you say such athing to me? How dare you?"He came nearer to her."Listen!" he said. "It is deliverance that I am offering you. I asknothing at all in return, simply to make you happy, and to teach you theblessed magic which now you scorn. Faith! It's the greatest game in theworld, Lady Una; and it only takes two players, dear, only two players!"There was a subtle, caressing quality in his voice. His masked face wasbending close to hers. She felt trapped and helpless, but she forcedherself to stand her ground."You insult me!" she said, her voice quivering, but striving to be calm."Never a bit!" he declared. "Since I am the truest friend you have!"She drew away from him with a gesture of repulsion."You insult me!" she said again. "I have my husband, and I need noother."He laughed sneeringly, the insinuating banter all gone from his manner."You know he is nothing to you," he said. "He neglects you. He bulliesyou. You married him because you wanted to be a married woman. Behonest, now! You never loved him. You do not know what love is!""It is false!" she cried. "I will not listen to you. Let me go!"He took a sudden step forward."You refuse deliverance?" he questioned harshly.She did not retreat this time, but faced him proudly."I do!""Listen!" he said again, and his voice was stern. "Sir Roland Brooke hasreturned home. He knows that you have disobeyed him. He knows that youare here with me. You will not dare to face him. You have gone too farto return."She gasped hysterically, and tottered for an instant, but recoveredherself."I will--I will go back!" she said."He will beat you like a labourer's wife," warned the jester. "He may doworse."She was swaying as she stood."He will do--as he sees fit," she said.He stooped a little lower."I would make you happy, Lady Una," he whispered. "I would protectyou--shelter you--love you!"She flung out her hands with a wild and desperate gesture. Themagnetism of his presence had become horrible to her."I am going to him--now," she said.Behind him she saw, in the brightening moonlight, the opening which shehad vainly sought a few minutes before. She sprang for it, darting pasthim like a frightened bird seeking refuge, and in another moment she waslost in the green labyrinths.* * *The moonlight had become clear and strong, casting black shadows allabout her. Twice, in her frantic efforts to escape, she ran back intothe centre of the maze. The jester had gone, but she imagined himlurking behind every corner, and she impotently recalled his words:"There is no way out of the magic circle."At last, panting and exhausted, she knew that she was unwinding thepuzzle. Often as its intricacies baffled her, she kept her head,rectifying each mistake and pressing on, till the wider curve told herthat she was very near the entrance. She came upon it finally quitesuddenly, and found herself, to her astonishment, close to the terracesteps.She mounted them with trembling limbs, and paused a moment to summon hercomposure. Then, outwardly calm, she traversed the terrace and enteredthe house.Lady Blythebury was dancing, and she felt she could not wait. Shescribbled a few hasty words of farewell, and gave them to a servant asshe entered her carriage. Hers was the first departure, and no onenoted it.She sank back at length, thankfully, in the darkness, and closed hereyes. Whatever lay before her, she had escaped from the nightmare horrorof the shadowy garden.But as the brief drive neared its end, her anxiety revived. Had SirRoland indeed returned and discovered her absence? Was it possible?Her face was white and haggard as she entered the hall at last. Her eyeswere hunted.The servant who opened to her looked at her oddly for a moment."What is it?" she said nervously."Sir Roland has returned, my lady," he said. "He arrived two hours ago,and went straight to his room, saying he would not disturb yourladyship."She turned away in silence, and mounted the stairs. Did he know? Had heguessed? Was it that that had brought him back?She entered her room, and dismissed the maid she found awaiting her.Swiftly she threw off the pink domino, and began to loosen her hair withstiff, fumbling fingers, then shook it about her shoulders, and sankquivering upon a couch. She could not go to bed. The terror thatpossessed her was too intense, too overmastering.Ah! What was that? Every pulse in her body leaped and stood still atsound of a low knock at the door. Who could it be? gasped her faintingheart. Not Sir Roland, surely! He never came to her room now.Softly the door opened. It was Sir Roland and none other--Sir Rolandwearing an old velvet smoking--jacket, composed as ever, his grey eyesvery level and inscrutable.He paused for a single instant upon the threshold, then came noiselesslyin and closed the door.Naomi sat motionless and speechless. She lacked the strength to rise.Her hands were pressed upon her heart. She thought its beating wouldsuffocate her.He came quietly across the room to her, not seeming to notice heragitation."I should not have disturbed you at this hour if I had not been surethat you were awake," he said.Reaching her, he bent and touched her white cheek."Why, child, how cold you are!" he said.She started violently back, and then, as a sudden memory assailed her,she caught his hand and held it for an instant."It is nothing," she said with an effort. "You--you startled me.""You are nervous tonight," said Sir Roland.She shrank under his look."You see, I did not expect you," she murmured."Evidently not." Sir Roland stood gravely considering her. "I cameback," he said, after a moment, "because it occurred to me that youmight be lonely after all, in spite of your assurance to the contrary.I did not ask you to accompany me, Naomi. I did not think you would careto do so. But I regretted it later, and I have come back to remedy theomission. Will you come with me to Scotland?"His tone was quiet and somewhat formal, but there was in it a kindlinessthat sent the blood pulsing through her veins in a wave of relief evengreater than her astonishment at his words. He did not know, then. Thatwas her one all-possessing thought. He could not know, or he had notspoken to her thus.She sat slowly forward, drawing her hair about her shoulders like acloak. She felt for the moment an overpowering weakness, and she couldnot look up."I will come, of course," she said at last, her voice very low, "if youwish it."Sir Roland did not respond at once. Then, as his silence was beginningto disquiet her again, he laid a steady hand upon the shadowing hair."My dear," he said gently, "have you no wishes upon the subject?"Again she started at his touch, and again, as if to rectify the start,drew ever so slightly nearer to him. It was many, many days since shehad heard that tone from him."My wishes are yours," she told him faintly.His hand was caressing her softly, very softly. Again he was silent fora while, and into her heart there began to creep a new feeling thatmade her gradually forget the immensity of her relief. She satmotionless, save that her head drooped a little lower, ever a littlelower."Naomi," he said, at last, "I have been thinking a good deal lately. Weseem to have been wandering round and round in a circle. I have beenwondering if we could not by any means find a way out?"She made a sharp, involuntary movement. What was this that he was sayingto her?"I don't quite understand," she murmured.His hand pressed a little upon her, and she knew that he was bendingdown."You are not happy," he said, with grave conviction.She could not contradict him."It is my own fault," she managed to say, without lifting her head."I do not think so," he returned, "at least, not entirely. I know thatthere have frequently been times when you have regretted your marriage.For that you were not to blame." He paused an instant. "Naomi," he said,a new note in his voice, "I think I am right in believing that,notwithstanding this regret, you do not in your heart wish to leave me?"She quivered, and hid her face in silence.He waited a few seconds, and finally went on as if she had answered inthe affirmative."That being so, I have a foundation on which to build. I would not askof you anything which you feel unable to grant. But there is only oneway for us to get out of the circle that I can see. Will you take itwith me, Naomi? Shall we go away together, and leave this miserableestrangement behind us?"His voice was low and tender. Yet she felt instinctively that he had notfound it easy to expose his most sacred reserve thus. She movedconvulsively, trying to answer him, trying for several unworthy momentsto accept in silence the shelter his generosity had offered her. But herefforts failed, for she had not been moulded for deception; and this newweapon of his had cut her to the heart. Heavy, shaking sobs overcameher."Hush!" he said. "Hush! I never dreamed you felt it so.""Ah, you don't know me!" she whispered. "I--I am not what you think me.I have disobeyed you, deceived you, cheated you!" Humbled to the earth,she made piteous, halting confession before her tyrant. "I was at themasquerade tonight. I waltzed--and afterwards went into the maze--in thedark--with a stranger--who made love to me. I never--meant you--toknow."Silence succeeded her words, and, as she waited for him to rise andspurn her, she wondered how she had ever brought herself to utter them.But she would not have recalled them even then. He moved at last, butnot as she had anticipated. He gathered the tumbled hair back from herface, and, bending over her, he spoke. Even in her agony ofapprehension she noted the curious huskiness of his voice."And yet you told me," he said. "Why?"She could not answer him, nor could she raise her face. He was notangry, she knew now; but yet she felt that she could not meet his eyes.There was a short silence, then he spoke again, close to her ear:"You need not have told me, Naomi."The words amazed her. With a great start of bewilderment she lifted herhead and looked at him. He put his hands upon her shoulders. She thoughtshe saw a smile hovering about his lips, but it was of a species she hadnever seen there before."Because," he explained gently, "I knew."She stared at him in wonder, scarcely breathing, the tears all gone fromher eyes."You--knew!" she said slowly, at last."Yes, I knew," he said. He looked deep into her eyes for seconds, andthen she felt him drawing her irresistibly to him. She yielded herselfas driftwood yields to a racing flood, no longer caring for theinterpretation of the riddle, scarcely remembering its existence; heardhim laugh above her head--a brief, exultant laugh--as he clasped her.And then came his lips upon her own...."You see, dear," he said later, a quiver that was not all laughter inhis voice, "it is not so remarkably wonderful, after all, that I shouldknow all about it, when you come to consider that I was there--therewith you in the magic circle all the time.""You were there!" she echoed, turning in his arms. "But how was it Inever knew? Why did I not see you?""Faith, sweetheart, I think you did!" said Sir Roland. Then, at herquick cry of amazed understanding: "I wanted to teach you a lesson, but,sure, I'm thinking it's myself that learned one, after all." And, as sheclung to him, still hardly believing: "We have found our paradisetogether, my Lady Una," he whispered softly. "And, love, there is no wayback."
zpostcode
Recruit
weather
mreligion
Yellowpages
sport
constellation
shopping
name
game
directory
literature
Word
tour
furnish
Lottery
tftnews
lyrics
News
digital
car
dir
Edu
Finance
