" It was not like the ringing of wedding bells alone, it sealed
blessing upon the man and the woman. It was a poem in praise of marriage
passion; it was a paean proclaiming the accomplishment of life. Crude,
primitive, it thrilled with Eastern feeling; a weird charm was showered
from its notes.
"Listen!" exclaimed Jethro again, a fire burning in his face. "That's for
you and me. To them you are my wife, and I am your man. 'Mi Duvel'--it
shall be so! I know women. For an hour you will hate me; for a day you
will resent me, and then you will begin to love me. You will fight me,
but I will conquer. I know you--I know you--all you women. But no, it
will not be I that will conquer. It's my love that will do it. It's a den
of tigers. When it breaks loose it will have its way. Here it is. Can't
you see it in my face? Can't you hear it in my voice? Don't you hear my
heart beating? Every throb says, 'Fleda--Fleda--Fleda, come to me.' I
have loved you since you were three. I want you now. We can be happy.
Every night we will make a new home. The world will be ours; the best
that is in it will come to us. We will tap the trees of
happiness--they're hid from the Gorgio world. You and I will know where
to find them. Every land shall be ours; every gift of paradise within our
reach--riches, power, children.
Pages:
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393