This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1921 edition. Excerpt: ...disarming patience! He had intended asking her plans. Now it was unnecessary. And he had thought at once of that last night when he had called at Hilmer's, remembering the sprawling magazine on the floor, the bowl of wanton flowers upon' the mantelshelf, the debonairly flung mandarin skirt clinging to the ...
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This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1921 edition. Excerpt: ...disarming patience! He had intended asking her plans. Now it was unnecessary. And he had thought at once of that last night when he had called at Hilmer's, remembering the sprawling magazine on the floor, the bowl of wanton flowers upon' the mantelshelf, the debonairly flung mandarin skirt clinging to the piano--these had been the first marks of conquest. As she was leaving she had said, "I shall see you again, of course." In spite of its inconsistency "he had sensed a certain habitual tenderness in her voice, as if custom were demanding its due. And, for a moment, the old bond between them touched him with its false warmth. But a swift revulsion swept him. "Why bother?" he had thrown back at her. "You mean you don't want me to come?" "Yes, just that!" He had taken her breath away, perhaps even wounded her, momentarily, but she had recovered herself quickly. Her smile had been full of the smug satisfaction of one who has washed his hands in public self-justification. She had left soon after that passage at arms, achieving the grace to dispense with the empty formality of either a kiss or a farewell embrace.... He remembered how he had flung up the window as if to clear the room of her poisonous presence.... To-day, sitting upon his narrow bed, instinctively following the patch of yellow sunlight as it gilded the gloom, he felt that the maniac next door had the better part. Of what use was reason when it ceased to function except in terms of withering unbelief? He sat motionless for hours, waiting patiently for them to come and release him to sharper sorrows. He had a passive eagerness to taste bitterness to the lees.... When he heard the door open finally he did not rise. He kept his face buried. A light footstep came nearer and he was conscious...
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Add this copy of Broken to the Plow, a Novel to cart. $61.07, good condition, Sold by Bonita rated 4.0 out of 5 stars, ships from Newport Coast, CA, UNITED STATES, published 2016 by Palala Press.
