DOI article:
Cross, Victoria: Theodora: a fragment
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.21805#0181
By Victoria Cross 177
the others were wholly occupied in testing the limits of the
flexibility of the soapstone.
Not for any consideration in this world could I have restrained
the irresistible desire to say the words, looking at her sitting
sideways to me, noting that shining weight of hair lying on the
white neck, and that curious masculine shade upon the upper lip.
A faint liquid smile came to her face.
“ Mine is not so long as that when you see it undone,” she said,
looking at me.
“ How long is it ? ” I asked mechanically, turning over the
leaves of the sketch-book, and thinking in a crazy sort of way
what I would not give to see her with that’hair unloosed, and have
the right to lift a single Strand of it.
“ It would not touch the ground,” she answered, cc it must be
about eight inches off it, I think.”
CCA marvellous length for a European,” I answered in a con-
ventional tone, though it was a difficulty to summon it.
Within my brain all the dizzy thoughts seemed reeling together
tili they left me hardly conscious of anything but an acute painful
sense of her proximity.
“ Find me the head of a Persian, will you ? ” came her voice next.
“ A Persian ? ” I repeated mechanically.
Theodora looked at me wonderingly and I recalled myself.
“ Oh, yes,” I answered, “ I’ll find you one. Give me the
book.”
I took the book and turned over the leaves towards the end.
As I did so, some of the intermediate pages caught her eye, and
she tried to arrest the turning leaves.
“ What is that ? Let me see.”
“ It is nothing,” I said, passing them over. “ Allow me to find
you the one you want.”
The Yellow Book—Vol. IV. l
Theodora
the others were wholly occupied in testing the limits of the
flexibility of the soapstone.
Not for any consideration in this world could I have restrained
the irresistible desire to say the words, looking at her sitting
sideways to me, noting that shining weight of hair lying on the
white neck, and that curious masculine shade upon the upper lip.
A faint liquid smile came to her face.
“ Mine is not so long as that when you see it undone,” she said,
looking at me.
“ How long is it ? ” I asked mechanically, turning over the
leaves of the sketch-book, and thinking in a crazy sort of way
what I would not give to see her with that’hair unloosed, and have
the right to lift a single Strand of it.
“ It would not touch the ground,” she answered, cc it must be
about eight inches off it, I think.”
CCA marvellous length for a European,” I answered in a con-
ventional tone, though it was a difficulty to summon it.
Within my brain all the dizzy thoughts seemed reeling together
tili they left me hardly conscious of anything but an acute painful
sense of her proximity.
“ Find me the head of a Persian, will you ? ” came her voice next.
“ A Persian ? ” I repeated mechanically.
Theodora looked at me wonderingly and I recalled myself.
“ Oh, yes,” I answered, “ I’ll find you one. Give me the
book.”
I took the book and turned over the leaves towards the end.
As I did so, some of the intermediate pages caught her eye, and
she tried to arrest the turning leaves.
“ What is that ? Let me see.”
“ It is nothing,” I said, passing them over. “ Allow me to find
you the one you want.”
The Yellow Book—Vol. IV. l
Theodora