The Hound of Florence by Felix Salten Read Free Book Online Page B

with its delicate mouth and soft dark-brown eyes, was made all the more fascinating by her wealth of curly locks and was agreeably complimented by the rosy skin of her dainty limbs and chest.
    Silent and smiling they ascended the road to the woods side by side.
    â€œWhere do you come from?” Lucas enquired at last.
    She shook her head, smiled, but said nothing.
    He smiled back. “Where are you going?” he asked after a pause.
    She shook her head as before.
    Again Lucas waited. “Don’t you wish to speak?” he asked, “or can’t you? . . . Tell me, what do they call you?”
    She looked kindly at him. “They call me Angelica . . . that’s all.”
    As soon as they were in the wood, her eyes searched for a suitable resting-place, and she ran forward to an old, decayed tree-trunk on the ground, and perched herself upon it. Lucas sat down beside her. She was holding her little bundle in her lap; unfastening it, she produced some dried figs and some bread and cheese, rummaging about for them among a tangle of bright-colored bits of cloth, hair-combs, coins, and broken necklaces, and producing them as if by magic. In the medley there was even a rosary of juniper berries which had to be disentangled.
    Lucas watched her closely. “Is all this yours?”
    â€œThis is all mine,” she replied, changing the order and emphasis of the words, as though trying to improve on them, and gazing calmly at him the while.
    He suppressed a smile. “Where did you get it all?” he asked, feigning surprise.
    â€œWell, I’ve got it,” was the reply, which sounded like a hint to ask no questions.
    â€œI have nothing at all,” observed Lucas, as if to himself.
    She quietly offered him a piece of cheese and some figs, and they ate together.
    When they had finished, she got up and they went on their way. The road led out of the wood and struck across fields and meadows, already bathed in warm sunshine. Angelica began to sing. Lucas listened in silence. He thought he had heard the song before sung by the Italian workmen in Vienna.
    â€œJoin in, won’t you?” she exclaimed, suddenly breaking off.
    And so they sang together as they walked along side by side. After a while Lucas took her hand. It reminded him that since his father had led him along like this he had never walked hand in hand with anyone. He felt the girl’s warm fingers clinging to his, and he sang more lustily than ever.
    When they were tired they rested; sometimes they talked, but often they said nothing for long stretches at a time. Then they would jump up and walk on until they wanted to rest again. Once, as they were walking silently on in their sunlit desert solitude, they stopped, gazed into each other’s eyes and kissed. Then they covered another long stretch of road, and stopped again. This time Lucas clasped her to his breast. He had never kissed a girl before. Gently releasing herself from his embrace, she shook her head, as if in remonstrance.
    â€œNot yet . . . !” she whispered.
    So they went on together again. The sun’s rays poured fiercely down upon them, and the whole countryside was aflame in the life-giving light. “Now I no longer fear a dog’s life!” cried Lucas, suddenly throwing up his arms with a sigh of relief.
    â€œWe all lead dogs’ lives,” she replied calmly. “So why be afraid of it? It is often hard, but sometimes it can be very fine. . . .”
    In the evening, as the shadows fell about them, they sat together under the eaves of a deserted hut.
    â€œI am alone too, quite alone,” said Angelica in reply to the little that Lucas had told her about himself. “It is true I often have somebody with me. . . . How can I tell who it is? . . . But I am very lonely all the same. Sometimes I am glad when he leaves me again and I am really alone. Often I have taken to my heels and run away