SEARCH
0-9 A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Prev | Current Page 103 | Next

Wollstonecraft, Mary, 1759-1797

"Mary A Fiction"


Her mind was then painfully active; she could not read or walk; she
tried to fly from herself, to forget the long hours that were yet to run
before to-morrow could arrive: she knew not what time he would come;
certainly in the morning, she concluded; the morning then was anxiously
wished for; and every wish produced a sigh, that arose from expectation
on the stretch, damped by fear and vain regret.
To beguile the tedious time, Henry's favorite tunes were sung; the books
they read together turned over; and the short epistle read at least a
hundred times.--Any one who had seen her, would have supposed that she
was trying to decypher Chinese characters.
After a sleepless night, she hailed the tardy day, watched the rising
sun, and then listened for every footstep, and started if she heard the
street door opened. At last he came, and she who had been counting the
hours, and doubting whether the earth moved, would gladly have escaped
the approaching interview.
With an unequal, irresolute pace, she went to meet him; but when she
beheld his emaciated countenance, all the tenderness, which the
formality of his letter had damped, returned, and a mournful
presentiment stilled the internal conflict.


Pages:
91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115