Other horsemen would meet him and take up the chase,
and he would turn and ride leisurely back into the haze and confusion.
It was like a kaleidoscope, for the scene shifted constantly and was
never quite the same.
Keith, secure in her absorption, slid sidewise in the saddle and
studied her face, knowing all the while that he was simply storing up
trouble for himself. But it is not given a man to flee human nature, and
the fellow who could sit calmly beside Beatrice and not stare at her if
the opportunity offered must certainly have the blood of a fish in his
veins. I will tell you why.
Beatrice was tall, and she was slim, and round, and tempting, with the
most tantalizing curves ever built to torment a man. Her hair was soft
and brown, and it waved up from the nape of her neck without those
short, straggling locks and thin growth at the edge which mar so many
feminine heads; and the sharp contrast of shimmery brown against ivory
white was simply irresistible. Had her face been less full of charm,
Keith might have been content to gaze and gaze at that lovely hair line.
As it was, his eyes wandered to her brows. also distinctly marked, as
though outlined first with a pencil in the fingers of an artist who
understood. And there were her lashes, dark and long, and curled up at
the ends; and her cheek, with its changing, come-and-go coloring; her
mouth, with its upper lip creased deeply in the middle--so deeply that a
bit more would have been a defect--and with an odd little dimple at one
corner; luckily, it was on the side toward him, so that he might look at
it all he wanted to for once; for it was always there, only growing
deeper and wickeder when she spoke or laughed.
Pages:
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54