WATCH Sexy Elisha Cuthbert In Action  CLICK HERE for Instant Access Elisha Cuthbert Photos |
Elisha Cuthbert Photos Books: Martin Eden The Pickwick Papers The Sea Wolf |
How far would it take him? Would it take him to
her?
He wondered if there was soul in those steel-gray eyes that were often
quite blue of color and that were strong with the briny airs of the sun-
washed deep. He wondered, also, how his eyes looked to her. He tried to
imagine himself she, gazing into those eyes of his, but failed in the
jugglery. He could successfully put himself inside other mens minds,
but they had to be men whose ways of life he knew. He did not know her
way of life. She was wonder and mystery, and how could he guess one
thought of hers? Well, they were honest eyes, he concluded, and in them
was neither smallness nor meanness. The brown sunburn of his face
surprised him. He had not dreamed he was so black. He rolled up his
shirt-sleeve and compared the white underside if the arm with his face.
Yes, he was a white man, after all. But the arms were sunburned, too. He
twisted his arm, rolled the biceps over with his other hand, and gazed
underneath where he was least touched by the sun. It was very white. He
laughed at his bronzed face in the glass at the thought that it was once
as white as the underside of his arm; nor did he dream that in the world
there were few pale spirits of women who could boast fairer or smoother
skins than he--fairer than where he had escaped the ravages of the sun.
His might have been a cherubs mouth, had not the full, sensuous lips a
trick, under stress, of drawing firmly across the teeth. At times, so
tightly did they draw, the mouth became stern and harsh, even ascetic.
They were the lips of a fighter and of a lover. They could taste the
sweetness of life with relish, and they could put the sweetness aside and
command life. The chin and jaw, strong and just hinting of square
aggressiveness, helped the lips to command life. Strength balanced
sensuousness and had upon it a tonic effect, compelling him to love
beauty that was healthy and making him vibrate to sensations that were
wholesome. And between the lips were teeth that had never known nor
needed the dentists care. They were white and strong and regular, he
decided, as he looked at them. But as he looked, he began to be
troubled. Somewhere, stored away in the recesses of his mind and vaguely
remembered, was the impression that there were people who washed their
teeth every day. They were the people from up above--people in her
class. She must wash her teeth every day, too. What would she think if
she learned that he had never washed his teeth in all the days of his
life? He resolved to get a tooth-brush and form the habit. He would
begin at once, to-morrow. It was not by mere achievement that he could
hope to win to her. He must make a personal reform in all things, even
to tooth-washing and neck-gear, though a starched collar affected him as
a renunciation of freedom.
He held up his hand, rubbing the ball of the thumb over the calloused
palm and gazing at the dirt that was ingrained in the flesh itself and
which no brush could scrub away. How different was her palm! He
thrilled deliciously at the remembrance. Like a rose-petal, he thought;
cool and soft as a snowflake. He had never thought that a mere womans
hand could be so sweetly soft. He caught himself imagining the wonder of
a caress from such a hand, and flushed guiltily. It was too gross a
thought for her. In ways it seemed to impugn her high spirituality. She
was a pale, slender spirit, exalted far beyond the flesh; but
nevertheless the softness of her palm persisted in his thoughts. He was
used to the harsh callousness of factory girls and working women. Well
he knew why their hands were rough; but this hand of hers . . . It was
soft because she had never used it to work with. The gulf yawned between
her and him at the awesome thought of a person who did not have to work
for a living. Martin Eden page 16 Martin Eden page 18 |