AC dBooks

Martin laughed as if he had been a boy himself (which he always was and
always will be) while telling me these stories, and I laughed too,
though with a certain tremor, for I was constantly remembering my
resolution and feeling afraid to be too happy.
After tea we went out on to the balcony, and leaned side by
side over the crumbling stone balustrade to look at the lovely
landscape--loveliest when the sun is setting on it--with the
flower-garden below and the headland beyond, covered with heather and
gorse and with a winding white path lying over it like the lash of a
whip until it dipped down to the sea.
"It's a beautiful old world, though, isn't it?" said Martin.
"Isn't it?" I answered, and we looked into each other's eyes and smiled.
Then we heard the light _shsh_ of a garden hose, and looking down saw an
old man watering the geraniums.
"Sakes alive! It's Tommy the Mate," cried Martin, and leaving me on the
balcony he went leaping down the stone stairway to greet his old
comrade.
"God bless me!" said Tommy.


Pages:
523 524 525 526 527 528 529 530 531 532 533 534 535 536 537 538 539 540 541 542 543 544 545 546 547