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Adams, Samuel Hopkins, 1871-1958

"Success A Novel"

Don't sulk, Ban, dearest. You're so un-pretty when
you pout."
He refused to accept the change to a lighter tone. "I understand this,
Io; that you have begun unaccountably to mistrust me. That hurts."
"I don't want to hurt you. I'd rather hurt myself; a thousand times
rather. Oh, I will marry you, of course, when the time comes! And yet--"
"Yet?"
"Isn't it strange, that deep-seated misgiving! I suppose it's my woman's
dread of any change. It's been so perfect between us, Ban." Her speech
dropped to its lowest breath of pure music:
"'This test for love:--in every kiss, sealed fast
To feel the first kiss and forebode the last'--
So it has been with us; hasn't it, my lover?"
"So it shall always be," he answered, low and deep.
Her eyes dreamed. "How could any man feel what he put in those lines?"
she murmured.
"Some woman taught him," said Banneker.
She threw him a fairy kiss. "Why haven't we 'The Voices' here! You
should read to me.... Do you ever wish we were back in the desert?"
"We shall be, some day."
She shuddered a little, involuntarily. "There's a sense of recall, isn't
there! Do you still love it?"
"It's the beginning of the Road to Happiness," he said. "The place where
I first saw you."
"You don't care for many things, though, Ban.


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