For your reading pleasure, Tempest presents yet another exquisite example of romantic narrative
We entreat you to read more, if you so desire
Waiting alone in the humble comfort of old Michaels hovel, with the undeniable rank odour of decay wafting in from outside, Lady Gordon thought once more of Gail Long, the brilliant scholar who had wanted to make her his lifes work. He was now, according to three independent witnesses, lost forever in the wilds of the Amazon.
Suddenly, came a flurry of activity, and she shut her eyes tight for one moment of silent prayer. He was here! I was a cad, a complete and utter fool! I cant hope that youll ever be able to forgive me but if you do not, I must die, beloved! he husked hysterically.
At that moment there was a much-appreciated break in the formerly-incessant shelling, and as he excitedly began to show her his plans for the villa they were to share, she began to wonder how she would explain all this to Irving.
||Return to a familiar clime
||Your next carriage awaits