Explore "Noemi" by Sabine Baring-Gould on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
IT was strange. The first recoil wave of the shock caused by this tidings broke into foam and fury against Noemi. Jean del' Peyra did not think of his loss, of the ruin of his home, of the sufferings of his people, but of Noemi laughing, making light of these things.
It was strange. Instead of striking spurs into his steed's flank and galloping forward to the scene of desolation, involuntarily, unconsciously, he turned his horse's head round, so that he faced the far-off Gageac, and with set teeth and flashing eye and lowering brow, wiped his lips with the sleeve of his right arm -- wiped them not once nor twice, but many times as to wipe off and wipe away for ever the sensation, the taint, the fire that had been kindled there by the kisses he had received.