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Moore, George (George Augustus), 1852-1933

"Memoirs of My Dead Life"

It
has darkened a little, that is all."
"It is provoking you should see me when I am thin. I wish you had seen
me last year when I came from the rest cure. I went up more than a
stone in weight. Every one said that I didn't look more than sixteen.
I know I didn't, for all the women were jealous of me."
As I sat watching the dissolving line of the horizon, lost in a dream,
I heard my companion say:
"Of what are you thinking?"
"I'm thinking of something that happened long ago in that very bay."
"Tell me about it;" and her hand sought mine for a moment.
"Would you like to hear it? I'd like to tell it, but it's a long, long
story, and to remember it would be an effort. The colour of the sea
and the sky is enough; the warmth of the sunlight penetrates me; I
feel like a plant; the only difference between me and one of those
palm trees----"
"I am sure those poor palms are shivering. There is not enough heat
here for them; they come from the south, and you come from the north."
"I suppose that is so. They grow, but they don't flourish here.
However, my mood is not philanthropic; I cannot pity even a palm tree
at the present moment. See how my cigar smoke curls and goes out! It
is strange, Doris, that I should meet you here, for some years ago it
was arranged that I should come here----"
"With a woman?"
"Yes, of course.


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