I’ll have no crying or sighing haggardly
Out of the dark void. But Gargantuan gauds
I’ll lay on your white body. Lutany
Shall soothe our slumbers. Then for me and you
A knell. And quietude thereafterwards.
He read it, and read it again. Yes, it stood the test. And musing he thought how Hérédia would have liked the shape of it, and how Mallarmé would have loved to attempt just those rhythms, how Rops would have delighted to illustrate it, and how Finden, perhaps, or Finck, would have made music for it in some minor mode and with strange fantastic counterpoints.…
After a light breakfast Gaveston went round in person to the printer. He handed him the fateful packet of manuscript.
“You will have it on sale on Monday? We have promised the public.”
“Of course, sir.”
The die was cast into Rubicon.…