The
clean-skirted one has come to the altar. Vive la vertu!"
Samuel Walcott, still sunburned from his cruise, stood before the
chancel with the only daughter of the blue blooded St. Clairs. His
face was clear and honest and his voice firm. This was life and
not romance. The lid of the sepulcher had closed and he had
slipped from under it. And now, and ever after, the hand red with
murder was clean as any.
The minister raised his voice, proclaiming the holy union before
God, and this twain, half pure, half foul, now by divine ordinance
one flesh, bowed down before it. No blood cried from the ground.
The sunlight of high noon streamed down through the window panes
like a benediction.
Back in the pew of Mrs. Miriam Steuvisant, Reggie Du Puyster turned
down his thumb. "Habet!" he said.
From "The Strange Schemes of Randolph Mason," by Melville Davisson
Post. Copyright, 1896, by G. P. Putnam's Sons.
Ambrose Bierce
An Heiress from Redhorse
CORONADO, June 20th.
I find myself more and more interested in him. It is not, I am
sure, his--do you know any noun corresponding to the adjective
"handsome"? One does not like to say "beauty" when speaking of a
man.
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