“'In those places, in those streets, the shadows swarmed, whispering and droning like a hive of dying bees, who, their honey eaten, wander through the winter day seeking flowers that are frozen and dead.”'
A great bee which had been busy with the lilac began to circle, booming, round his hair. Suddenly Hilary saw Mr. Stone raise both his arms.
“'In huge congeries, crowded, devoid of light and air, they were assembled, these bloodless imprints from forms of higher caste. They lay, like the reflection of leaves which, fluttering free in the sweet winds, let fall to the earth wan resemblances. Imponderous, dark ghosts, wandering ones chained to the ground, they had no hope of any Lovely City, nor knew whence they had come. Men cast them on the pavements and marched on. They did not in Universal Brotherhood clasp their shadows to sleep within their hearts—for the sun was not then at noon, when no man has a shadow.'”
As those words of swan song died away he swayed and trembled, and suddenly disappeared below the sight-line, as if he had sat down. The little model took his place in the open window. She started at seeing Hilary; then, motionless, stood gazing at him. Out of the gloom of the opening her eyes were all pupil, two spots of the surrounding darkness imprisoned in a face as pale as any flower. Rigid as the girl herself, Hilary looked up at her.
A voice behind him said: “How are you? I thought I'd give my car a run.” Mr. Purcey was coming from the gate, his eyes fixed on the window where the girl stood. “How is your wife?” he added.
The bathos of this visit roused an acid fury in Hilary. He surveyed Mr. Purcey's figure from his cloth-topped boots to his tall hat, and said: “Shall we go in and find her?”
As they went along Mr. Purcey said: “That's the young—the—er—model I met in your wife's studio, isn't it? Pretty girl!”
Hilary compressed his lips.
“Now, what sort of living do those girls make?” pursued Mr. Purcey. “I suppose they've most of them other resources. Eh, what?”
“They make the living God will let them, I suppose, as other people do.”