She looked up from an open letter as he came into the room,
and the sun that fell through the window caught her in a shaft
of light, intensifying her blue eyes, her blue gown, and the
bunch of violets fastened in her belt. To Loder, still under
the influence of early memories, she seemed the embodiment of
some youthful ideal--something lost, sought for, and found
again. Realization of his feeling for her almost came to him
as be stood there looking at her. It hovered about him; it
tipped him, as it were, with its wings; then it rose again and
soared away. Men like him--men keen to grasp an opening where
their careers are concerned, and tenacious to hold it when once
grasped--are frequently the last to look into their own hearts.
He glanced at Eve, he acknowledged the stir of his feeling, but
he made no attempt to define its cause. He could no more have
given reason for his sensations than he could have told the
precise date upon which, coming down-stairs at eight o'clock, he
had first found her waiting breakfast for him.
Pages:
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330