41 But finally she rose, forsaken, And, sighing, started home for bed; But hardly had she turned and taken The garden lane, when straight ahead, His eyes ablaze, Eugene stood waiting— Like some grim shade of night’s creating; And she, as if by fire seared, Drew back and stopped when he appeared.… Just now though, friends, I feel too tired To tell you how this meeting went And what ensued from that event; I’ve talked so long that I’ve required A little walk, some rest and play; I’ll finish up another day.
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