'His eyes were closed against her beauty, else he had seen the sudden smile that touched her beauty, touched it and was going, going, lurked a while in the depths of her eyes like a very small bird in the ferns of love-in-the-mist, and lo! was gone.'
from The Three-Cornered Moon, a piece in May Fair by Michael Arlen
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment