Explore "The Bird of Paradise" by E. Phillips Oppenheim on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Louise, arm in arm with Perissol, walked in the pine-hung gardens of the villa, on the lighthouse hill, and breathed in happiness with the sunlight and the fragrant breeze.
"My dear beloved," she murmured, as they paused for a moment to look down upon the bay, "if only this dark cloud could pass away. If only we could be happy here together, and feel that France was herself again."