Explore "A Strange Story" by Edward Bulwer-lytton on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Let me recall it--softly,--softly! Let me recall that evening spent with her!--that evening, the last before darkness rose between us like a solid wall.
It was evening, at the close of summer. The sun had set, the twilight was lingering still. We were in the old monastic garden,--garden so quiet, so cool, so fragrant. She was seated on a bench under the one great cedar-tree that rose sombre in the midst of the grassy lawn with its little paradise of flowers. I had thrown myself on the sward at her feet; her hand so confidingly lay in the clasp of mine. I see her still,--how young, how fair, how innocent!