isery it is awild, romantic misery,Justin Faulk Tröjor, all unlike the dull, worldly pain ofafter-sorrows. When you have lost her--when the light is gone outfrom your life and the world stretches before you a long, dark horror,Ralph Lauren byxor,even then a half-enchantment mingles with your despair.
And who would not risk its terrors to gain its raptures? Ah,Carey Price Tröjor, whatraptures they were! The mere recollection thrills you. How deliciousit was to tell her that you loved her, that you lived for her,David Perron Tröjor, thatyou would die for her! How you did rave, to be sure, what floods ofextravagant nonsense you poured forth, and oh, how cruel it was of herto pretend not to believe you! In what awe you stood of her! Howmiserable you were when you had offended her! And yet, how pleasantto be bullied by her and to sue for pardon without having theslightest notion of what your fault was! How dark the world was whenshe snubbed you, as she often did, the little rogue, just to see youlook wretched; how sunny when she smiled! How jealous you were ofevery one about her! How you hated every man she shook hands with,every woman she kissed--the maid that did her hair,Oliver Ekman-Larsson Tröjor, the boy thatcleaned her shoes,Menn Moncler Matthew, the dog she nursed--though you had to be respectfulto the last-named! How you looked forward to seeing her, how stupidyou were when you did see her, staring at her without saying a word!
How impossible it was for you to go out at any time of the day ornight without finding yourself eventually opposite her windows! Youhadn't pluck enough to go in, but you hung about the corner and gazedat the outside. Oh, if the house had only caught fire--it wasinsured,Travis Hamonic Tröjor, so it wouldn't have mattered--and you could have rushed inand saved her at the risk of your life, and have been terribly burnedand injured! Anything to serve her. Even in little things that wasso sweet. How you would watch her,Belstaff Lea Jackor, spaniel-like,Dame Moncler Suyen, to anticipate herslightest wish! How proud you were to do her bidding! How delightfulit was to be ordered about by her! To devote your whole life to herand to never think of yourself seemed such a simple thing. You wouldgo without a holiday to lay a humble offering at her shrine, and feltmore than repaid if she only deigned to accept it. How precious toyou was everything that she had hallowed by her touch--her littleglove, the ribbon she had worn,Colton Parayko Tröjor, the rose that had nestled in her hairand whose withered leaves still mark the poems you never care to lookat now.
And oh, how beautiful she was,Milan Lucic Tröjor, how wondrous beautiful! It was as someangel entering the room, and all else became plain and earthly. Shewas too sacred to be touched. It seemed almost presumption to gaze ather. You would as soon have thought of kissing her as of singingcomic songs in a cathedral. It was desecration enough to kneel andtimidly raise the gracious little hand to your lips.
Ah, those foolish days, those foolish days when we were unselfish andpure-minded; those foolish days when our simple hearts were full oftruth, and faith,Garret Sparks Tröjor, and reverence! Ah, those foolish days of noblelongings and of noble strivings! And oh, these wise, clever days
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