Wild fevers of the blood,
passionate longing for completion in man, oneness, the "organic
unit"--were not for her.
All feeling ebbed slowly out of her, leaving her cold, collected, alert.
She was, over all, a woman of genius, the custodian of peculiar gifts,
sleeping throughout the ages, perhaps, like Brunhilde on her rock, to
awaken not at the kiss of man, but at the summons of Germany in her
darkest hour.
She bent over the man who belonged to the woman alone in her and whose
power over her would be exerted as ruthlessly as her own should be over
herself. He looked a very gallant gentleman as he lay there, and he had
been a very brave soldier. His own place was secure in the annals of the
war, but at this moment, following upon his triumphant swoop after
happiness, he was the one deadly menace to the future of his country.
Gisela opened his shirt gently and bared his breast. She held her
breath, but he slept on and she took the dagger from her belt and with a
swift hard propulsion drove it into his heart to the guard. He gave a
long expiring sigh and lay still. A gallant gentleman, a brave soldier,
and a great lover had the honor to be the first man to pay the price of
his country's crime, on the altar of the Woman's Revolution.
3
Gisela went swiftly down the hall and awakened Heloise, Mimi, and Marie
and told them what she had done.
Pages:
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105