The TruantsMason, A. E. W. (Alfred Edward Woodley)
General
The Truants
Mason, A. E. W. (Alfred Edward Woodley)
Fiction
"Yes," Pamela answered gently: "I am no longer lonely in my thoughts."
"And you are happy?" he continued. "You were not happy when you were
at Roquebrune last. I should like to know that you, at all events, are
happy now."
"Yes," said Pamela. In the presence of his distress she rather shrank
from acknowledging the change which had come over her. It seemed
cruel; yet he clearly wished to know. He clearly would be the happier
for knowing. "Yes," she said; "I am happy."
"I am very glad," said M. Giraud, in a low voice; "I am very glad."
And he went rather quickly out by the door.
CHAPTER XXXI
AT THE RESÉRVE
Tony Stretton walked quickly down from the Villa Pontignard to the
station. There he learned that an hour must elapse before a train to
Eze was due. Inaction was at this moment intolerable to him. Even
though he should get to Eze not a minute the sooner, he must hurry
upon his way. He could not wait upon this platform for an hour,
suspense so tortured him. He went out upon the road and began to run.
He ran very quickly. The road turned sharply round the shoulder of a
hill, and Stretton saw in front of him the lights of Monte Carlo. They
were bunched in great white clusters, they were strung in festoons in
the square and the streets. They made a golden crescent about the
dark, quiet waters of the bay. Looking down from this shoulder of the
hill upon the town at such an hour one seems to be looking upon a town
of fairyland; one expects a sweet and delicate music to float upwards
from its houses and charm the ears. Tony's one thought was that beyond
that place of lights lay Eze. He came to an electric tram which was on
point of starting. He entered it and it rattled him quickly down the
hill.
At Monte Carlo he sprang into the first carriage which he saw waiting
for a fare, and bade the coachman drive him quickly out to Eze. The
night had come; above his head the stars shone very brightly from a
dark sky of velvet. The carriage passed out of the town; the villas
grew more scarce; the open road glimmered ahead of him a riband of
white; the sea murmured languorously upon the shore.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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