No romantic folly will ever ruin your life."
There was irony and ridicule in her voice and face, and the young man
felt his cheek tingle with anger and humiliation. The Baroness had
read him like an open book--as everyone else doubtless would do. It
was bitterly galling to his pride, but there was nothing to do, save
to keep a bold front, and carry out his role with as much dignity as
possible.
He rose, spoke a few formal words of thanks to the Baroness for her
kindness to him, and bowed himself from her presence, carrying with
him down the street the memory of her mocking eyes.
As he entered his private office, he was amazed to see Berene Dumont
sitting in his chair fast asleep, her head framed by her folded arms,
which rested on his desk. Against the dark maroon of her sleeve, her
classic face was outlined like a marble statuette. Her long lashes
swept her cheek, and in the attitude in which she sat, her graceful,
perfectly-proportioned figure displayed each beautiful curve to the
best advantage.
To a noble nature, the sight of even an enemy asleep, awakes
softening emotions, while the sight of a loved being in the
unconsciousness of slumber stirs the fountain of affection to its
very depths.
As the young editor looked upon the girl before him, a passion of
yearning love took possession of him.
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