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Wharton, Edith, 1862-1937

"The Valley of Decision"

Of late, however, she seemed
to have wearied of this sport, throwing herself entirely into the
private diversions of her station, and alluding with laughing
indifference to her husband's necromantic researches.
Such was the conflicting gossip of the hour; but it was in fact idle to
forecast the fortunes of a state dependent on a valetudinary's whims;
and rumour was driven to feed upon her own conjectures. To Odo the state
of affairs seemed a satire on his secret aspirations. In a private
station or as a ruling prince he might have served his fellows: as a
princeling on the edge of power he was no more than the cardboard sword
in a toy armoury.
Suddenly he heard his name pronounced and starting up saw Maria
Clementina at his side. She rode alone, and held out her hand as he
approached.
"I have had an accident," said she, breathing quickly. "My girth is
broke and I have lost the rest of my company."
She was glowing with her quick ride, and as Odo lifted her from the
saddle her loosened hair brushed his face like a kiss. For a moment she
seemed like life's answer to the dreary riddle of his fate.
"Ah," she sighed, leaning on him, "I am glad I found you, cousin; I
hardly knew how weary I was;" and she dropped languidly to the doorstep.
Odo's heart was beating hard. He knew it was only the stir of the spring
sap in his veins, but Maria Clementina wore a look of morning brightness
that might have made a soberer judgment blink. He turned away to examine
her saddle.


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