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Quiller-Couch, Arthur Thomas, Sir, 1863-1944

"Poison Island"

"Come and choose, then!" She put out
both hands to the darkness by the wall, and a whole cascade of jewels
came sliding down and poured themselves with a rush about her feet
and across the floor of the gallery. She laughed and thrust her
hands again into the heap.
"All these I found--I myself--and carried up here from the darkness.
Take what you will, little boy, and run back to your ship.
Is it diamonds you will choose, or rubies, or--see here--this chain
of pearls? I do not like pearls, for my part; they mean sorrow.
But--see here, again!--there were boxes and boxes, all heaped to the
brim, and long robes sown all over with pearls. Take what you like--
_he_ will not know. He gives me diamonds sometimes. I adored them
in the old days, in opera. And he remembers and gives me a stone
from time to time, to keep me amused. I laugh to myself, then, when
I think of the store I keep, here in my bower. And he so clever!
But he does not guess. Ah, child, if I had had but these to wear
when I used to sing Eurydice!"
She held out two handfuls of diamonds, and began to sing in a high,
cracked voice, while she let them rain through her fingers.
"But listen!" I cried suddenly.
She ceased at once, and stood with her face half turned to the
darkness behind her, her arms rigid at her sides, the gems dropping
as her hand slowly unclasped them.


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