e fact of all life." But "Oh! Jones,"
she said, turning from the dusty pages and clasping her young,
milk-warm hands over mine and leaning towards me until her blushing
cheek was near to my shoulder and the incense of her breath upon me.
"Oh! Gulliver Jones," she said. "Make me read no more; my soul
revolts from the task, the crazy brown letters swim before my eyes. Is
there no learning near at hand that would be pleasanter reading than
this silly book of yours? What, after all," she said, growing bolder at
the sound of her own voice, "what, after all, is the musty reticence of
gods to the whispered secret of a maid? Jones, splendid stranger for
whom all men stand aside and women look over shoulders, oh, let me be
your book!" she whispered, slipping on to my knee and winding her arms
round my neck till, through the white glimmer of her single vest, I
could feel her heart beating against mine. "Newest and dearest of
friends, put by this dreary learning and look in my eyes; is there
nothing to be spelt out there?"
And I was constrained to do as she bid me, for she was as fresh as an
almond blossom touched by the sun, and looking down into two swimming
blue lakes where shyness and passion were contending--books easy
enough, in truth, to be read, I saw that she loved me, with the
unconventional ardour of her nature.
It was a pleasant discovery, if its abruptness was embarrassing, for
she was a maid in a thousand; and half ashamed and half laughing I let
her escalade me, throwing now and then a rueful look at the Secret of
the Gods, and all that priceless knowledge treated so unworthily.
What else could I do? Besides, I loved her myself! And if there was a
momentary chagrin at having yonder golden knowledge put off by this
lovely interruption, yet I was flesh and blood, the gods could
wait--they had to wait long and often before, and when this sweet
interpreter was comforted we would have another try. So it happened I
took her into my heart and gave her the answer she asked for.
For a long time we sat in the dusky grandeur of the royal library, my
mind revolving between wonder and admiration of the neglected knowledge
all about, and the stirrings of a new love, while Heru herself, lapsed
again into Martian calm, lay half sleeping on my shoulder, but
presently, unwinding her arms, I put her down.
"There, sweetheart," I whispered, "enough of this for the moment;
tonight, perhaps, some more, but while we are
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