Day had now given away to night and as we wandered along the great
avenue lighted by the two moons of Barsoom, and with Earth looking
down upon us out of her luminous green eye, it seemed that we were
alone in the universe, and I, at least, was content that it should
be so.
The chill of the Martian night was upon us, and removing my silks I
threw them across the shoulders of Dejah Thoris. As my arm rested
for an instant upon her I felt a thrill pass through every fiber of
my being such as contact with no other mortal had even produced; and
it seemed to me that she had leaned slightly toward me, but of that
I was not sure. Only I knew that as my arm rested there across her
shoulders longer than the act of adjusting the silk required she did
not draw away, nor did she speak. And so, in silence, we walked the
surface of a dying world, but in the breast of one of us at least
had been born that which is ever oldest, yet ever new.
I loved Dejah Thoris. The touch of my arm upon her naked shoulder
had spoken to me in words I would not mistake, and I knew that I had
loved her since the first moment that my eyes had met hers that
first time in the plaza of the dead city of Korad.
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