For he knew that Bebee was not as others are.
He turned back and knocked at the hut door and opened it.
Bebee was just beginning to undress herself; she had taken off her white
kerchief and her wooden shoes; her pretty shoulders and her little neck
shone white in the moon; her feet were bare on the mud floor.
She started with a cry and threw the handkerchief again on her shoulders,
but there was no fear of him; only the unconscious instinct of her
girlhood.
He thought for a moment that he would not go away until the morrow--
"Did you want me?" said Bebee softly, with happy eyes of surprise and yet
a little startled, fearing some evil might have happened to him that he
should have returned thus.
"No; I do not want you, dear," he said gently; no--he did not want her,
poor little soul; she wanted him, but he--there were so many of these
things in his life, and he liked her too well to love her.
"No, dear, I did not want you," said Flamen, drawing her arms about him,
and feeling her flutter like a little bird, while the moonlight came in
through the green leaves and fell in fanciful patterns on the floor.
Pages:
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199