All Story Magazine, December 1913 — page 123: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Ove fiero OES in Cay, De Lysle Soe ne ik IS kisses burned her lips and left her breathless, palpita- ting. By what little light there was in the shadow of the hedge he could see that she kept her eyes tight closed and could not restrain the convulsive wri- thing of her mouth. Her left cheek was splotched with vivid crimson where his unshaven chin had chafed its unnatural pallor. Her fingers remained clenched tensely in his waistcoat, and he was forced to shake her roughly before she roused and relaxed her grip. * Vera—shy child,” he murmured. That he spoke did not at first pene- trate her quivering consciousness. She was too agitated for that. Vaguely she was aware of a vast change in her inner being—a renascence of self, so to speak. Involuntarily her thoughts slipped back to Tomasz, her betrothed. The memory of him smote her soul with what amounted to a physical shock. “Why, or why is it that the faculty of-wooing thus is reserved for the no- ble born?” she thought. Then she turned her eyes back upon the man whose arms still enwrapped 85 833 her, and he was glad to observe that reason had once more replaced the vacuous ecstasy which his passion had roused. “Vera,” he said again, this time more loudly, “ are you calm again? ”’ The girl fought down the tremu- lous hysteria that rose within her and pressed his hot cheek with hers. “Calm?” she sighed, breathing rapidly. “ No, not that! I think that . I shall never be calm again.” The reassurance the man threw into his laugh sounded hollow out there in the lone stillness of the night. “But you do love me, Vera? are not afraid any more? ”’ She shivered and again closed her eyes. Her words came thick, inartic- ulate. “Yes, Iam still afraid; but who am I to deny the devotion you offer me? I am only old Yakof's brat—doomed to poverty since the beginning. And you are a boyar—a great nobleman.” “Yes,” said he proudly, “I am Ni- kolai Iaroslaf. Yet 1 feel that it is no condescension to love you.” The girl went on as if she had not heard him: ‘‘ You have asked me to go away with you—to leave my father and brothers, the hut which has been my home, to see other horizons than You comicloooks.com