Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder
American Day Dream
Biblis painting
Boulevard des Capucines
growing impotence, I know not, but his throat vibrated with a deep groan. The hand at my throat relaxed. I breathed. His hand fluttered and tightened again. But even his tremendous will could not overcome the dissolution that assailed it. That will of his was breaking down. He was fainting. ¡¡¡¡Maud's footsteps were very near as his hand fluttered for the last time and my throat was released. I rolled off and over to the deck on my back, gasping and blinking in the sunshine. Maud was pale but composed,- my eyes had gone instantly to her face,-
oil painting and she was looking at me with mingled alarm and relief. A heavy seal-club in her hand caught my eyes, and at that moment she followed my gaze down to it. The club dropped from her hand as if it had suddenly stung her, and at the same moment my heart surged with a great joy. Truly she was my woman- my mate- woman, fighting for me as the mate of a caveman would have fought, all the primitive in her aroused, forgetful of her culture, hard under the softening civilization of the only life she had ever known.