“Thank you. That is the only piece of work of which I feel really proud. Some day, when the light is pure and strong, come in and examine it. Now there is a greenish tinge over all things in the room thrown by sea-shimmer through the clustering leaves. Ah, what a long, low, presageful moan that was, which broke from foaming lips, on yonder strand!”
“Good morning, Mrs. Gerome. The inspection of your pictures has yielded me so much pleasure that I must tender you my very sincere thanks for your courtesy.”
She bowed distantly; and, when he reached his buggy, he glanced back and saw that perfect, pallid face, pressed against the cedar facing of the oriel, looking seaward. He lifted his hat, but she did not observe the salute; and, as he drove away, she kept her eyes upon the murmuring waves, and repeated, as was her habit, the lines that chanced to present themselves,—
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“Listen! you hear the solemn roar Begin, and cease, and then again begin, With tremulous cadence, slow, and bring The eternal note of sadness in. Sophocles, long ago, Heard it on the Ægean, and it brought Into his mind the turbid ebb and flow Of human misery.” |
CHAPTER XV.
“Miss Dexter, where is Muriel?” asked Dr. Grey, glancing around the library, where the governess sat sewing, while Salome read aloud a passage in Ariosto.
“She is not very well, and went up stairs, two hours ago, to rest. Do you wish to see her immediately?”
“Yes. Call her down.”