Fanny Hill Pdf Ebook Free: Download the Classic Erotic Novel by John Cleland

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Walter was lying awake in his bed trying to escape from thehaunting thought that he was to go away next day by giving freerein to fancy. Walter had a very vivid imagination. It was to him agreat white charger, like the one in the picture on the wall, onwhich he could gallop backward or forward in time and space. TheNight was coming down...Night, like a tall, dark, bat-winged angelwho lived in Mr. Andrew Taylor's woods on the south hill. SometimesWalter welcomed her...sometimes he pictured her so vividly that hegrew afraid of her. Walter dramatized and personified everything inhis small world...the Wind who told him stories at night...theFrost that nipped the flowers in the garden...the Dew that fell sosilverly and silently...the Moon which he felt sure he could catchif he could only go to the top of that faraway purple hill...theMist that came in from the sea...the great Sea itself that wasalways changing and never changed...the dark, mysterious Tide. Theywere all entities to Walter. Ingleside and the Hollow and the maplegrove and the Marsh and the harbour shore were full of elves andkelpies and dryads and mermaids and goblins. The blackplaster-of-Paris cat on the library mantelpiece was a fairy witch.It came alive at night and prowled about the house, grown toenormous size. Walter ducked his head under the bedclothes andshivered. He was always scaring himself with his own fancies.

It was what Susan called a streaky winter...all thaws andfreezes that kept Ingleside decorated with fantastic fringes oficicles. The children fed seven blue-jays who came regularly to theorchard for their rations and let Jem pick them up, though theyflew from everybody else. Anne sat up o' nights to pore over seedcatalogues in January and February. Then the winds of March swirledover the dunes and up the harbors and over the hills. Rabbits, saidSusan, were laying Easter eggs.

Could she be a princess? No, princesses were too scarce in P. E.Island. But she was tall, slim, remote, icily beautiful like aprincess, with long jet-black hair in two thick braids over hershoulders, right to her feet. She would have a clear-cut ivoryface, a beautiful Grecian nose, like the nose of Mother's Artemisof the Silver Bow, and white lovely hands which she would wring asshe walked in the garden at night, waiting for the one true lovershe had disdained and learned too late to love...you perceive howthe legend was growing?...while her long black velvet skirtstrailed over the grass. She would wear a golden girdle and greatpearl earrings in her ears and she must live her life of shadow andmystery until the lover came to set her free. Then she would repentof her old wickedness and heartlessness and hold out her beautifulhands to him and bend her proud head in submission at last. Theywould sit by the fountain...there was a fountain by this time...andpledge their vows anew and she would follow him, "over the hillsand faraway, beyond their utmost purple rim," just as the SleepingPrincess did in the poem Mother read to her one night from the oldvolume of Tennyson Father had given her long, long ago. But thelover of the Mysterious Eyed gave her jewels beyond allcompare.

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