Sucks books

Her mouth was not small, but the lips were full and delicately
turned. She walked quickly with a good stride and her slight,
silvery skirts and rosy, silken jumper showed her figure clearly
enough--her round hips and firm, girlish bosom. She swung along--a
flash of joy on little twinkling feet that seemed hardly to touch
the ground.
Her eyes met his for a moment with a frank, trustful expression,
then she had passed. Waiting half a minute, Brendon turned to look
again. He heard her singing with all the light-heartedness of youth
and he caught a few notes as clear and cheerful as a grey bird's.
Then, still walking quickly, she dwindled into one bright spot upon
the moor, dipped into an undulation, and was gone--a creature of the
heath and wild lands whom it seemed impossible to imagine pent
within any dwelling.
The vision made Mark pensive, as sudden beauty will, and he wondered
about the girl. He guessed her to be a visitor--one of a party,
perhaps, possibly here for the day alone. He went no farther than to
guess that she must certainly be betrothed.


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