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Wharton, Edith, 1862-1937

"Summer"

"
He had his arms about her, and his kisses were in her hair and on her
lips. Under his touch things deep down in her struggled to the light and
sprang up like flowers in sunshine. She twisted her fingers into his,
and they sat down side by side on the improvised couch. She hardly heard
his excuses for being late: in his absence a thousand doubts tormented
her, but as soon as he appeared she ceased to wonder where he had come
from, what had delayed him, who had kept him from her. It seemed as if
the places he had been in, and the people he had been with, must cease
to exist when he left them, just as her own life was suspended in his
absence.
He continued, now, to talk to her volubly and gaily, deploring his
lateness, grumbling at the demands on his time, and good-humouredly
mimicking Miss Hatchard's benevolent agitation. "She hurried off Miles
to ask Mr. Royall to speak at the Town Hall tomorrow: I didn't know till
it was done." Charity was silent, and he added: "After all, perhaps it's
just as well.


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