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Wharton, Edith, 1862-1937

"Summer"

She had never felt such
smooth sheets or such light warm blankets; but the softness of the bed
did not soothe her. She lay there trembling with a fear that ran through
her veins like ice. "What have I done? Oh, what have I done?" she
whispered, shuddering to her pillow; and pressing her face against it
to shut out the pale landscape beyond the window she lay in the darkness
straining her ears, and shaking at every footstep that approached....
Suddenly she sat up and pressed her hands against her frightened heart.
A faint sound had told her that someone was in the room; but she must
have slept in the interval, for she had heard no one enter. The moon was
setting beyond the opposite roofs, and in the darkness outlined
against the grey square of the window, she saw a figure seated in the
rocking-chair. The figure did not move: it was sunk deep in the chair,
with bowed head and folded arms, and she saw that it was Mr. Royall who
sat there. He had not undressed, but had taken the blanket from the
foot of the bed and laid it across his knees.


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