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Gissing, George, 1857-1903

"Veranilda"


'To-morrow, perhaps,' she murmured. Then, with an effort to seem
cheerful, as if ashamed of her troubled thought, 'I had listened so
long to a sound of falling water that I could not resist the desire
to see it. How beautiful it is!'
Marcian felt surprise; he himself saw the cataract as an object of
beauty, but had seldom heard it so spoken of, and could least of all
have expected such words on the lips of a woman, dread seeming to
him the more natural impression.
'That on the other side,' he said, pointing across the island, 'is
more beautiful still. And there is shade, whilst here the sun grows
too hot. But you must not walk so far. My horse has a very even
pace. If you would let me lift you to the saddle--'
'Oh, gladly!' she answered, with a little laugh of pleasure.
And it was done. For a moment he held her, for a moment felt the
warmth and softness of her flesh; then she sat sideways upon the
horse, looking down at Marcian with startled gaiety. He showed her
how to hold the reins, and the horse went gently forward.
'It makes me a child again,' she exclaimed.


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