Читать книгу A Son of Ishmael. A Novel онлайн

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Rowton had by no means a tender face—his bold black eyes, his stalwart frame, his swarthy complexion, his ringing voice, were all made to command—but when he chose, no man could be more tender; his deep voice could thrill to the very depths of the soul, his eyes could speak volumes of passionate adoration.

Nancy shivered as she looked at him.

“How much I love you,” she repeated, twining and untwining her slender hands as she spoke, “and yet, Adrian, I must part from you.”

“Not a bit of it, wild bird,” was the reply. “You and I are never going to part again in this world—we shall be man and wife before a week is out. Now, Nancy, do you really believe that a slender bit of a girl like you can oppose a man of my sort, more particularly when you confess how much you love me? Why, the last obstacle to our marriage was withdrawn last night, and now you talk about a secret, as if any secret that ever existed can come between us. After all, Nance, that old father of yours was a very crabbed nut to crack—well, he is out of the way, now.”