It
has the same meaning for the man of the forests and the sea as for the
man threading the paths of the more dangerous wilderness of houses and
streets. Men that had felt in their breasts the awful exultation such a
look awakens become mere things of to-day--which is paradise; forget
yesterday--which was suffering; care not for to-morrow--which may be
perdition. They wish to live under that look for ever. It is the look
of woman's surrender.
He understood, and, as if suddenly released from his invisible bonds,
fell at her feet with a shout of joy, and, embracing her knees, hid his
head in the folds of her dress, murmuring disjointed words of gratitude
and love. Never before had he felt so proud as now, when at the feet of
that woman that half belonged to his enemies. Her fingers played with
his hair in an absent-minded caress as she stood absorbed in thought. The
thing was done. Her mother was right. The man was her slave. As she
glanced down at his kneeling form she felt a great pitying tenderness for
that man she was used to call--even in her thoughts--the master of life.
She lifted her eyes and looked sadly at the southern heavens under which
lay the path of their lives--her own, and that man's at her feet.
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