Page:Frank Owen - Rare Earth, 1931.djvu/63

 he would not heed her pleading. Date for the wedding was set. It was to be but a few nights after 'The Feast of Lanterns' had ended. His decision was final.

Now all poetry had gone from the garden. There was no poetry in the perfume of jasmine and wistaria. The willows moaned in sympathy as Hung Long Tom walked through the quiet paths with bowed head. Then once more came Lotus Blossom to the garden for the last time. Her father was in conference with the Jade Master. There was naught to prevent their holding earnest conversation. Through the garden paths they walked as sadly as though the garden were a tomb. Hung Long Tom placed his arm gently about her fragile shoulders. Beneath a willow tree he paused and crushed her to him. It was renunciation, the end of everything.

He pleaded with her to run off with him, to quit China and flee to some far country where no one could ever find them, where they could live their lives as though they were part of a beautiful poem. But Lotus Blossom shook her