please, Philippe; I didn’t know●, myself, truly—not till Laure told me■ about—about you, and I knew that I didn’t ●care at all how horrible and vile I had been, b●ecause I was so glad that you—that you 霆—” “Hush!” He stood

  • y, the tears salt on her lips■. “Why, because you w
  • ere a good child,■” he154 helped her gaily. “And
  • wan■ted to tell me that you were sorry●.” “No—

quite still, and t■hen he raised his hand to his eyes. “I s●hould send you far from me, Fairfax.” “Yes■,” said Fair, “I’m not any ■good, you see. All I had to give you


  • was■ my money and my—my155 pr

    ettiness. I can’t g■ive you either of them, Philippe.” “When I ■heard you laugh, that first night when

  • yo■u came,” he told her, “I

    remembered—I ■remembered that laughter was not jus●t a sound to cover up despair—I reme●mbered how to l

  • augh that night.” She sta●red

    at him, voiceless. “When you sp■oke to me—when you spoke to■ me, my Music—I was glad then that I● co


uld not see, because I wis■hed to listen only, always.”● ?/p>

癙hilippe,” she prayed. “Don’t, don’t se●nd me away, Philippe.” “We are mad,●” he said. “Come closer.”■ And once more she went toward him across ●that sunlit space, to where h●e stood, tall and splendid

and terrible●. “Closer still,” he said.  霭Closer still—still

closer. Why do yo■u weep, my Laughter??/p>

? “Hold me—hol■d me—don’t let me go.” “Blindness, 癖 he said. “It is just a little word, ●a little, dark, ugly word to● frighten foolish chil

dren. Are you■ beautiful, my Loveliness? Never, n

■ever could you be beautiful as I dream you! 霰 He touched her lips with his brown fingers●. “Smile!” he said. And she smiled■. “What is blin

dness to me who can touch yo●ur lips to laughter?

” he asked■ her, bending his black head until his lips swep■t her lashe

s. “What is156 blindness to ■me, who

d?” H■e wa


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