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Atherton, Gertrude Franklin Horn, 1857-1948

"Sleeping Fires: a Novel"


Masters was leaning on the table, supporting his head with his hands
and laughing. He had passed the stage where he wanted to talk, but it
would be morning before his brain would be completely befuddled.
Madeleine's body became so stiff that her heels left the floor and
she stood on her toes. Holt and Lacey grasped her arms, but she did
not sway; she stood staring at the man she had come for. There was
little semblance of the polished, groomed, haughty man who had won
her. His face was not swollen but it was a dark uniform red and the
lines cut it to the bone. The slight frown he had always worn had
deepened to an ugly scowl. His eyes were injected and dull, his hair
was turning gray. His mouth that he had held in such firm curves was
loose and his teeth stained. She remembered how his teeth had flashed
when he smiled, the extraordinary brilliancy of his gray eyes.... The
groggery vanished ... they were sitting before the fire in the
Occidental Hotel....
The daze and the vision lasted only a moment. She disengaged herself
from her escorts and walked rapidly toward the table.


XLIV

Masters did not recognize her at once. Her face lay buried deep in
his mind, covered with the debris of innumerable carouses, forgotten
women, and every defiance he had been able to fling in the face of
the civilization he had been made to adorn.


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