"That's the idea," said Scott. "And then back by another way. We ought to
get a good view of the sunset. I hope it won't be misty, but they say a
change is coming."
"I hope it won't come yet," said Dinah fervently. "The last few days have
been so perfect. And there is so little time left."
Scott smiled. "That is the worst of perfection," he said. "It never
lasts."
Dinah's eyes were wistful. "It will go on being perfect here long after
we have left," she said. "Isn't it dreadful to think of all the good
things--all the beauty--one misses just because one isn't there?"
"It would be if there were nothing else to think of," said Scott. "But
there is beauty everywhere--if we know how to look for it."
She looked at him uncertainly. "I never knew what it meant before I came
here," she told him shyly. "There is no time for beautiful things in my
life. It's very, very drab and ugly. And I am very discontented. I have
never been anything else."
Her voice quivered a little as she made the confession. Scott's eyes were
so kind, so full of friendly understanding. Isabel had dropped out of
their intercourse as completely as though her presence had been
withdrawn. She lay back against her cushions, but her eyes were still
watching, watching incessantly.
"I think the very dullest life can be made beautiful," Scott said, after
a moment. "Even the desert sand is gold when the sun shines on it.
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