The Point of View by Elinor Glyn
page 21 of 114 (18%)
page 21 of 114 (18%)
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Stella had thrown every consideration to the winds, except the determination to enjoy herself. Years of rebellion at the boredom of her existence seemed to be urging her on. So she meekly slipped into the cloak, and wrapped the veil right over her hat, and they started. Her heart was thumping so with excitement she could not have spoken for a moment. But as they went rapidly on through the crowded streets, her companion's respectful silence reassured her. There seemed to be some rapport between them, she was conscious of a feeling that he understood her thoughts, and was not misjudging her. "You are like a little frightened bird," he said presently. "And there is nothing to cause you the least fear. We shall soon come to the lovely gardens, and watch the lowering sun make its beautiful effects in the trees, and we shall hear the nightingales throbbing out love songs--the world is full of rest and peace-- when we have had enough passion and strife and want its change-- but you do not know anything of it, and this simple drive is causing you tumults and emotions--is it not so?" "Yes," said Stella, with a feeling that she had burnt all her ships. "It is because you have never been allowed to be YOU, I suppose," he went on softly. "So doing a natural and simple thing seems frightful--because it would seem so to the rigid aunt. Now, I have been ME ever since I was born--I have done just what seemed best to me. Do you suppose I am not aware that the way my hair is cut |
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