Всадник без головы

Chapter 85

           "’Tisnousemytellingyouitshistory.Itbeganonthesameday—ay,thesamehour—Ifirstsawyou.

           "Iwon’tsayitgrewstrongerastimepassed.Itcouldnot.Onmyfirstvisittoyourfather’shouse—nowsixyearsago—youmayrememberthat,afteralightingfrommyhorse,youaskedmetotakeawalkwithyouroundthegarden—whiledinnerwasbeinggotready.

           "Youwerebutastriplingofagirl;butoh,Loo,youwereawomaninbeauty—asbeautifulasyouareatthismoment.

           "Nodoubtyoulittlethought,asyoutookmebythehand,andledmealongthegravelledwalk,undertheshadeoftheChinatrees,thatthetouchofyourfingerswassendingathrillintomysoul;yourprettyprattlemakinganimpressionuponmyheart,thatneithertime,nordistance,noryetdissipation,hasbeenabletoefface."

           TheCreolecontinuedtolisten,thoughnotwithoutshowingsign.Wordssoeloquent,soearnest,sofullofsweetflattery,couldscarcefailtohaveeffectuponawoman.BysuchspeechhadLucifersucceededintheaccomplishmentofhispurpose.Therewaspity,ifnotapproval,inherlook!

           Stilldidshekeepsilence.

           Calhouncontinued:—

           "Yes,Loo;it’strueasItellyou.I’vetriedallthree.Sixyearsmayfairlybecalledtime.FromMississippitoMexicowasthedistance:forIwenttherewithnootherpurposethantoforgetyou.Itprovedofnoavail;and,returning,Ientereduponacourseofdissipation.NewOrleansknowsthat.

           "Iwon’tsay,thatmypassiongrewstrongerbytheseattemptstostifleit.

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