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The Key to Yesterday

The Key to Yesterday

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Chapter 1 No.1

Word Count: 3624    |    Released on: 01/12/2017

the track. A smother of ondriving dust broke, hurricane-like, around the last turn, sweeping before it into the straightaway a struggling

to the last ounce of his strength and the last subtle feather-weight of his craft and skill. At his saddleskirts pressed a pair of

obvious impossibility of finding his friend he could here at least give his friend the opportunity of finding him, since at this point were a few panels of fence almost clear. As the two colts fought out the final decisive furlongs, the black nose

oulder and depth of chest, in his slenderness of waist and thigh, of a life spent only partly within walls, while

, set under level brows; keenly observant by token of their clear light, yet t

sh for two-year-olds, but also, across the fresh turf of the infield,

suddenly abandoned the race at the exact moment of its climax: as hundreds of heads crane

all events, nothing short of miraculous that such a girl should be discovered standing, apparently u

erted, so that only the curve of one cheek, a small ear and a curling tendril of brown hair under

, simply grow on the sides of heads, but this one might have been fashioned

about for a less prosaic explanation. Magic would seem to suit her better than mere actuality. She was sinuously slender, and there was a splendid hint of gallantry in the unconscious sweep of her shoulders. He was conscious that the simplicity of her pongee gown loaned itself to an almost bar

with electrical force, was the challenge that beauty in any form made upon his enthusiasm. Perhaps, that was why he stood

elicate brilliance of color, while the hat-brim threw a band of shadow on forehead and eyes. The man's impression was swift and definite. He had been waiting to see, and was prepared. The face, he decided, was not beautiful by the gauge of set standards. I

ound himself still studying her with the detached, though utterly engrossed, interest of the critic. She did not

eared space by the palings. Then, the man saw a quick anger sweep into the girl's face

e actuality of his staring impertinence, until she had, with a flush of unuttered wrath and embar

eyes that stung him, and presently h

ed as though to explain it all with the frank outspokenness of a scho

e had opportunity to reflect on the inadequacy of his explanatio

rough looking at

s con

in-but it wasn't meant to be-to

d quietly as though talking to hersel

an fl

any woman could be induced to understand that a man may look at her-even stare at her-without disrespect, just as he might loo

ooked up again, meeting his eyes gravely, though he thought that she

she told him. "Unless you have to

a backward glance, and engulfed himself in the mob where one

characterized by the wholesome attractiveness of one who has taken life with zest and decency. He wore also upon feature

ke a little boy who has lost his nurse." After a pause, he added: "And

lbow, and began steering h

nted. And you are the scoffer who argues that women may be eli

ered calmly an

. I'm talking about a woman-

s she,

hould

them-suppose yo

and host with commiserating pity. When he d

'm no poet laureate, and, if I

ly the disconcerting mock

t to meet her, precisely as I'd get up early in the morning and climb a mountain to see th

he chronics and apostles of the turf, and racing may be only racing as roulette is roulette. But on Derby Day it is as

f the grandstand's perspiring swarm, for Fashion's reservation still allowed some luxury of space, but beyond the numbers of less important times. In t

e caught the impression that the prettiness of the feminine display had been here arranged, and that in scattering attractive types along th

were usually gathered together men, not to the number of two and three, but in full quor

he was different, and at every point of her divergence from a routine type it was the type that suffered by the contrast. Having preferred being a boy until she reached that age when it became necessary to bow to the dictate of Fate and accept her sex, she had retained an und

own world-a system for which she offered no apology; and this found its vin

ave their notes to the May air, and the May air smoothed and melted them into softness. Duska's ey

from the bookmaker's maelstrom with the immaculateness of his personal

ve chaplets of bay and arches to walk under. It looks to me

gravity. Her voice was velvety, but Be

esar's-but what is your latest triumph?" She p

nt of the thrust at his somewhat notorious self-appraisem

myself, I shall be satisfied with an unostentatious tablet in bronze when I'm

ty dramatic values and effects. Just as a public speaker in nominating a candidate works up to a climax of eulogy, and paus

ith the débutante's legitimate interes

s returned

ge St

ched her brows i

inting masterpieces in the Quartier Latin, or wande

han himself-a painter of international reputation, it would seem. I met them a few moments ago in the

dropped back from "the happy roads that lead around the world," it was

hat whenever he returned it was to renew the proffer of himself, even though with the knowledge that the answer wou

on. If no one present had ever heard the name before, the consequential manne

f his nose-glasses, missed little, and he saw that Duska Filson still looked off

cite you, Miss Filson?" he inquired,

for Bellton. She was herself an exponent of all things natural and unaffected, and she rea

mply, "it's not news. I've

brity," prompted Miss Buford

hook he

im. He was to arr

with a smile, "you will, after all, ha

isappointed frown, "are only a man. Wh

ds women." He paused to laugh. "He was telling Steele that he had come to paint

re," suggested Anne Preston. "I, for o

him what dangerous batteries of eyes he must encounter. It seemed to me unfair to let

e take your warning?"

first opportunity. He said that he was a painter, had even been a co

d came once more the noisy outburst that ushers the horses into

had made their way between the chairs of the verandah until they

demonium of the stand fell away, George St

aint the portraits of you girls almost as beautiful

. Something in the distance had caught Duska Filson's imagination-brimming eyes. She was

nder girl in a simple pongee gown and a soft, wide-brimmed Panama hat. Under the hat-brim, he caught the glimpse of an ear that might have been fashioned by a jeweler and a c

subtle pleasure in the thought that it had not called this girl's eyes from whatever occupied them out beyond

"come back from your dreams, a

t would be her attitude when she recognized the ma

from grave blue to flashing violet and back again to grave blue. To the man, the swiftly shifting light of it s

t thinking-" she paused to laugh frankly, and it was the music of th

rivileged good-fortune into

her eyes, but utter artlessness in her

not met somewhere bef

first, perhaps. And you were a girl in Macedon

ecollections of Babylon and Macedon for a chance acquaintance, but

nt, he deman

ling me which colt

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