[Blix by Frank Norris]@TWC D-Link book
Blix

CHAPTER X
9/23

Why, just to love Blix, to be with her, to see the sweet, clean flush of her cheek, to know that she was there at his side, and to have the touch of her elbow as they walked, was better than the best story, the greatest novel he could ever hope to write.

Life was better than literature, and love was the best thing in life.

To love Blix and to be near her--what else was worth while?
Could he ever think of finding anything in life sweeter and finer than this dear young girl of nineteen?
Suddenly Condy came to himself with an abrupt start.

What was this he was thinking--what was this he was telling himself?
Love Blix! He loved Blix! Why, of COURSE he loved her--loved her so, that with the thought of it there came a great, sudden clutch at the heart and a strange sense of tenderness, so vague and yet so great that it eluded speech and all expression.

Love her! Of course he loved her! He had, all unknowing, loved her even before this wonderful morning: had loved her that day at the lake, and that never-to-be-forgotten, delicious afternoon in the Chinese restaurant; all those long, quiet evenings spent in the window of the little dining-room, looking down upon the darkening city, he had loved her.


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