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Green Eyes

Green Eyes

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Chapter 1 THE MYSTERIOUS ISLANDER

Word Count: 1700    |    Released on: 06/12/2017

ght half moon painted a path of sil

as a rowboat. It was painted black. The anchor lay in its prow. The boat did

A slight girl, she sat bent over as if

s she asleep? Did she dream? She was thinking. One thinks best when at perfect repose. Where could be found more perfect

ed boat, passing at a terrific rate, had stirred the waters and had sent

y. She and this other girl had come to the little settlement to seek repose. More

herself. "More than likely they'll come

d. Perhaps they would not return after a

rench girl, Petite Jeanne. She had not moved for a quar

told herself. She had not stirre

Florence asked herself. "Might toppl

f the French girl could not swim? One swimmer was enough. And Florence could

," she thought. "Bu

. It was August, but the season was late

rgrown with cedars, but an island all the same. And in the midst of the cedars, dark, mysterious, all but hidden, was a cottage. And in the cottage lived a lady who dressed in somber garments

e northern waters in a community where no man loc

nvinced that there was something. She m

ff. With a roar that was deafening, the r

current of air fanning their cheek

about her, then clutched at the seat. Just in time. The rowbo

s if there wasn't room enough fo

her mind. Was there a purpo

o remain right there, all the same; at least until Petite J

e Jeanne?" she asked herself. "Perhaps it is h

r mind was filled with bright d

ith the gypsies of France. Florence and her friend Betty had found her there in France. In her company they had pas

ancient gypsy dance in the most divine manner. She had won the acclaim of the elite of Paris. Not alone this; she had caught the eye of a renowned producer of drama. Finding himself prepared to stage a dram

xactly that of her feat in Paris, to dance the gypsy dance with a pet bear beneath a golden

ite Jeanne

nce her success at the Paris Opera she had dreamed many dre

to her. There was no part

her. Life, to her, was more than acting on a stage. Life, vivid li

ne, "I will be your 'mother.' Every star, you know, must have a

ughed Petite Jeanne, squeezing her arm. "Parbl

was rich and famous to become her guide and pr

and well accustomed to America, I will stay by her side,

He at once made provision

isfactory manner for three weeks. Then Farnsw

ch lily droops a little in this humid climate. The north waters

th the moon and the stars above them and all th

ith a broad fireplace at its back, with heavily cushioned rustic chairs in every corner, and with such an air of f

en into a deep reverie when, with the suddenn

roar, a demon of s

she screamed in Je

wing, she was lost in a mountain of foam. Their rowboat top

as on the surface,

e her." These were the thoughts uppermost in her m

s loose. It came away. Jeanne began to sink. One more desperate

Jeanne! Get hold of my

ned French

The boat was overturned, perhaps smashed. At any rate she could not right it. The spe

tered bitterly. "And they laughed! I heard

as to

a single li

out only at night. That is by far the nearest point. We must try for that. It is our

gly, glided silently through the dark water. The waters were not mo

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