As she
rose to go, he also took his hat to return to the garden, where he had
left Sleeny, and they walked over the lawn together. As they approached
the rose-house, she thought of her former visit and asked to repeat it.
The warm breath of the flowers saluted her as she crossed the
threshold, bringing so vivid a reminiscence of the enchantment of that
other day, that there came with it a sudden and poignant desire to try
there, in that bewitched atmosphere, the desperate experiment which
would decide her fate. There was no longer any struggle in her mind.
She could not, for her life, have kept silent now. She walked slowly
beside him to the place where the pots of roses stood ranged on their
frames, filling the air with dense fragrance. Her hands were icy cold
and quick flushes passed through her, while her face reddened and paled
like a horizon smitten by heat-lightning in a sultry night of summer.
She looked at the moist brick pavement at her feet, her eyelids seemed
too heavy to lift, and the long lashes nearly touched her cheeks.
"What sort will you have?" said Farnham, reaching for the gardener's
shears.
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