'Are you asleep?' she said softly, advancing to the side of the bed.
'Are you asleep?' she repeated gently, as she stood at the side of the
bed. And she reached her hand in the darkness to touch his forehead.
Delicately, her fingers met the nose and the eyebrows, she laid her fine,
delicate hand on his brow. It seemed fresh and smooth--very fresh and
smooth. A sort of surprise stirred her, in her entranced state. But it
could not waken her. Gently, she leaned over the bed and stirred her
fingers over the low-growing hair on his brow.
'Can't you sleep tonight?' she said.
There was a quick stirring in the bed. 'Yes, I can,' a voice answered. It
was Hadrian's voice. She started away. Instantly, she was wakened from
her late-at-night trance. She remembered that her father was downstairs,
that Hadrian had his room. She stood in the darkness as if stung.
'It is you, Hadrian?' she said. 'I thought it was my father.' She was so
startled, so shocked, that she could not move. The young man gave an
uncomfortable laugh, and turned in his bed.
At last she got out of the room. When she was back in her own room, in
the light, and her door was closed, she stood holding up her hand that
had touched him, as if it were hurt. She was almost too shocked, she
could not endure.
'Well,' said her calm and weary mind, 'it was only a mistake, why take
any notice of it.'
But she could not reason her feelings so easily.
Pages:
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161