Explore "The King Behind the King" by Warwick Deeping on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Isoult saw Merlin loitering for her among the fir trees, and she could imagine the smile on his face-that face with its red, libidinous mouth and hungry, restless eyes. He stood there in a little alley of the wood, a figure like a grey monolith marking the spot where some king had fallen.
Isoult's soul hardened itself against him, and she struck the strings of her lute and murmured the words of a song.