Stump electronic books

Neither the morning nor the prospect was conducive to a cheerful view of
life; and perhaps that was why, when he took in his boots and found in
one of them a letter, deposited there by the chamber-maid, which he at
once saw was in Ferdinand Lind's handwriting, that he instantly assumed,
mentally, an attitude of defiance. He did not open the letter just then.
He took time to let his opposition harden. He knew there would be
something or somebody to fight. It was too much to expect that
everything should go smoothly. If there was such a thing as a law of
compensation, that beautiful dream-like evening at the opera--the light,
the color, the softened music; the scent of white-rose; the dark, soft
eyes, and the last pressure of the hand; the forget-me-nots he carried
away with him--would have to be paid for somehow. And he had always
distrusted Ferdinand Lind. His instinct assured him that this letter,
which he had been looking for and yet dreading, contained a distinct
refusal.
His instinct was completely at fault. The letter was exceedingly kind
and suave.


Pages:
297 298 299 300 301 302 303 304 305 306 307 308 309 310 311 312 313 314 315 316 317 318 319 320 321