His one effort was to keep it from being too apparent
to her.
The way in which Joanne had taken his invitation was as delightful as it
was new to him. She had become both guest and hostess. With her lovely arms
bared halfway to the shoulders she rolled out a batch of biscuits. "Hot
biscuits go so well with marmalade," she told him. He built a fire. Beyond
that, and bringing in the water, she gave him to understand that his duties
were at an end, and that he could smoke while she prepared the supper. With
the beginning of dusk he closed the cabin door that he might have an excuse
for lighting the big hanging lamp a little earlier. He had imagined how its
warm glow would flood down upon the thick soft coils of her shining hair.
Every fibre in him throbbed with a keen and exquisite satisfaction as he
sat down opposite her. During the meal he looked into the quiet, velvety
blue of her eyes a hundred times. He found it a delightful sensation to
talk to her and look into those eyes at the same time. He told her more
about himself than he had ever told another soul. It was she who spoke
first of the manuscript upon which he was working.
Pages:
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74