F CACKLING GEESE 183
XXV.--THE FOG WAS DENSE, I COULDN'T RIGHTLY SEE 191
XXVI.--THE NEXT WITNESS, PLEASE 199
XXVII.--AND PEOPLE WENT OUT TO LUNCHEON 205
XXVII.--WHICH TELLS OF AN UNEXPECTED TURN OF EVENTS 216
XXIX.--THE WORLD IS SO LARGE 223
XXX.--AND THEN EVERY ONE WENT HOME 233
XXXI.--AND THERE ARE PEOPLE WHO DO NOT CARE 237
XXXII.--A MAN MUST ACT AS HE THINKS BEST 244
XXXIII.--IF YOU WOULD ONLY LET YOURSELF GO 249
XXXIV.--WHICH SPEAKS ONLY OF FAREWELLS 261
XXXV.--WHICH TELLS OF PICTURES IN THE FIRE 268
XXXVI.--PEOPLE DON'T DO THAT SORT OF THING 274
XXXVII.--IT IS ONE HUMAN LIFE AGAINST THE OTHER 287
XXXVIII.--THE HAND OF DEATH WAS ON HIM TOO 292
XXXIX.--A MERE WOMAN FIGHTING FOR THE THING SHE LOVED 300
XL.--AND THUS HER HOUR HAD COME 310
XLI.--WHICH TELLS OF THE CONTENTS OF THE NOTE BOOK 313
XLII.--WHICH TELLS ONCE MORE OF COMMONPLACE INCIDENTS 319
THE HEART OF A WOMAN
BARONESS ORCZY
CHAPTER I
WHICH TELLS OF A VERY COMMONPLACE INCIDENT
No! No! she was not going to gush!--Not even though there was nothing
in the room at this moment to stand up afterward before her as dumb
witness to a moment's possible weakness. Less than nothing in fact:
space might have spoken and recalled that moment . . . infinite
nothingness might at some future time have brought back the memory of
it . . . but these dumb, impassive objects! . . . the fountain pen
between her fingers! The dull, uninteresting hotel furniture covered
in red velvet--an uninviting red that repelled dreaminess and peace!
The ormolu clock which had ceased long ago to mark the passage of
time, wearied--as it no doubt was, poor thing--by the monotonous
burden of a bronze Psyche gazing on her shiny brown charms, in an
utterly blank and unreflective bronze mirror, while obviously
bemoaning the fracture of one of her smooth bronze thighs! Indeed
Louisa might well have given way to that overmastering feeling of
excitement before all these things. They would neither see nor hear.
They would never deride, for they could never remember.
But a wood fire crackled on the small hearth . . . and . . . and those
citron-coloured carnations were favourite flowers of his . . . and his
picture did stand on the top of tha
|