Good Books

His thoughts were dreamlike and brilliant
with fairy sunshine. He understood at last what poets meant by their
melodious musings, woven into golden threads of song--he seemed to have
grasped some hitherto unguessed secret of his being--a secret that
filled him with as much strange pain as pleasure. He felt as though he
were endowed with a thousand senses,--each one keenly alive and
sensitive to the smallest touch,--and there was a pulsation in his blood
that was new and beyond his control,--a something that beat wildly in
his heart at the sound of Thelma's voice, or the passing flutter of her
white garments near him. Of what use to disguise it from himself any
longer? He loved her! The terrible, beautiful tempest of love had broken
over his life at last; there was no escape from its thunderous passion
and dazzling lightning glory.
He drew a sharp quick breath--the hum of the gay voices around him was
more meaningless to his ears than the sound of the sea breaking on the
beach below.


Pages:
295 296 297 298 299 300 301 302 303 304 305 306 307 308 309 310 311 312 313 314 315 316 317 318 319