Edgar Rice Burroughs

Thuvia Edgar Rice Burroughs

Upon a massive bench of polished ersite beneath the gorgeous blooms of a giantpimalia a woman sat. Her shapely, sandalled foot tapped impatiently upon thejewel-strewn walk that wound beneath the stately sorapus trees across the scarletsward of the royal gardens of Thuvan Dihn, Jeddak of Ptarth, as a dark-haired, redskinned warrior bent low toward her, whispering heated words close to her ear."Ah, Thuvia of Ptarth," he cried, "you are cold even before the fiery blasts of myconsuming love! No harder than your heart, nor colder is the hard, cold ersite ofthis thrice happy bench which supports your divine and fadeless form! Tell me, OThuvia of Ptarth, that I may still hope-that though you do not love me now, yetsome day, some day, my princess, I-"The girl sprang to her feet with an exclamation of surprise and displeasure. Herqueenly head was poised haughtily upon her smooth red shoulders. Her dark eyeslooked angrily into those of the man."You forget yourself, and the customs of Barsoom, Astok," she said. "I have givenyou no right thus to address the daughter of Thuvan Dihn, nor have you won such aright."