Explore "The Dark Flower" by John Galsworthy on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
When young Mark came on Sylvia by the logan-stone, it was less surprising to him than if he had not known she was there-having watched her go. She was sitting, all humped together, brooding over the water, her sunbonnet thrown back; and that hair, in which his star had caught, shining faint-gold under the sun. He came on her softly through the grass, and, when he was a little way off, thought it best to halt. If he startled her she might run away, and he would not have the heart to follow. How still she was, lost in her brooding! He wished he could see her face. He spoke at last, gently:
"Sylvia! . Would you mind?"