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Cullum, Ridgwell, [pseud.], 1867-1943

"The Forfeit"

The dread
of thought remained heavily overshadowing, but a certain distortion
displayed the reaching of limits beyond which human power could not go,
even in suffering. It was a merciful nature asserting itself. Her
eyes closed, slowly, gently, with a drowsy helplessness. Once her
elbow slipped from the sill of the window and awoke her. A somnolent
thought that she would go to bed passed dully through her mind. But
she did not act upon it. She propped her head upon her hand once more,
and, in a moment, everything was forgotten.
She awoke with a start. There was no drowse in her wakefulness now.
Her eyes were wide, and her thoughts alert. The sensation of a blow, a
light, unforceful blow was still tingling through her nerves. The
blow, it seemed, had fallen upon her forehead, and she thrust a hand up
mechanically to the spot. But the action yielded her no enlightenment.
There was no pain, no sign.
She peered through the open window and realized that the moon had
risen. She stared at it, and presently it occurred to her that she
must have slept, and, by the position of the moon above the horizon,
for at least an hour.


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