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Galsworthy, John, 1867-1933

"Five Tales"

How long they stood there without speaking he knew
not. The stream went on chattering, the owls hooting, the moon kept
stealing up and growing whiter; the blossom all round them and above
brightened in suspense of living beauty. Their lips had sought each
other's, and they did not speak. The moment speech began all would
be unreal! Spring has no speech, nothing but rustling and whispering.
Spring has so much more than speech in its unfolding flowers and leaves,
and the coursing of its streams, and in its sweet restless seeking! And
sometimes spring will come alive, and, like a mysterious Presence
stand, encircling lovers with its arms, laying on them the fingers of
enchantment, so that, standing lips to lips, they forget everything but
just a kiss. While her heart beat against him, and her lips quivered on
his, Ashurst felt nothing but simple rapture--Destiny meant her for his
arms, Love could not be flouted! But when their lips parted for
breath, division began again at once. Only, passion now was so much the
stronger, and he sighed:
"Oh! Megan! Why did you come?" She looked up, hurt, amazed.
"Sir, you asked me to."
"Don't call me 'sir,' my pretty sweet.


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