Explore "Queenie's Whim, Volume 2" by Rosa Nouchette Carey on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"She knew not what was lacking, / Knew not until it came; / She gave it the name of friendship, / But that was not its name. / And the truth could not be hidden / From her own clear-seeing eyes. / When the name her own heart whispered, / And whispered too, 'Be wise. " -- _Isa Craig-Knox._
The storm had wholly ceased, but a few snatches of summer lightning still played on the ragged edge of the clouds when Queenie at last bade her old friend good night, and went up to her little room, to think over the bewildering events of the day. The air was still oppressed and sultry. The white slabs of stone in the mason's yard shone dimly in the darkness; the wet ivy scattered a shower of drops on the girl's uncovered head as she leaned out, as though gasping for air. A faint perfume of saturated roses and drowned lavender pervaded everything. A blue-grey moth trailed his draggled wings feebly across the sill. The dark-scented air seemed full of mystery and silence.