Charles Egbert Craddock,
The amulet: A novel
(1906)
“ He had never seemed so unworthy of her as now, failing even in fair words, just dues, which most men contrive to pay. Raymond had held his peace, however, when Mervyn had been bitterly disparaged among the little cluster of brother officers in the mess-hall, and kept away from the commandant’s parlor, denying himself even the pleasure of a formal call. It was not well that he should see her, for his own sake—the mere recollection of the contour of her face, the pensive fall of her eyelash, the clear lustre of her eyes, broke his heart, and shook his nerve, and half-maddened his brain. ”
