Love is not a plant that requires time to flourish, but is quite
capable of springing up like the gourd of Jonah full grown in a
moment. Our young friend, Sir Norman, had not been aware of the
existence of the object of his affections for a much longer space
than two hours and a half, yet he had already got to such a
pitch, that if he did not speedily find her, he felt he would do
something so desperate as to shake society to its utmost
foundations. The very mystery of the affair spurred him on, and
the romantic way in which she had been found, saved, and
disappeared, threw such a halo of interest round her, that he was
inclined to think sometimes she was nothing but a shining vision
from another world. Those dark, splendid eyes; that lovely
marblelike face; those wavy ebon tresses; that exquisitely
exquisite figure; yes, he felt they were all a great deal too
perfect for this imperfect and wicked world. Six Norman was in a
very bad way, beyond doubt, but no worse than millions of young
men before and after him; and he heaved a great many profound
sighs, and drank a great many glasses of sack, and came to the
sorrowful conclusion that Dame Fortune was a malicious jade,
inclined to poke fun at his best affections, and make a
shuttlecock of his heart for the rest of his life.
Pages:
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89