"Or a mouse going in at the same hole it came out from," thought Margaret.
He drew steady, straight lines, crossing them off with wonderful regularity; then some airy grace stole down to the tips of his firm white fingers, and the ends of the lines leaved and budded out, audacious tendrils draped the severest angles, and stars and crescents peeped through the spaces. Half impatiently he returned to geometrical figures; but pentagons grouped themselves to look like five-petaled blossoms or star-crystals of frost, and hexagons gathered themselves into a mosaic pavement whereon a sandalled foot was set.
"This is the Nile," he said, going over all with bold, flowing lines; "and here comes Cleopatra's barge, the dusky queen dropped among her cushions, a line of steady glow showing under each lowered eyelid, cords of cool pearls trying in vain to press into quiet her untamable pulses.
"This is a close-shut forest solitude, with a carpet of greenest, softest moss, whereon I lie like Danae while the heavens shower gold on me."
Then, with a start, came recollection, and the rush-tip became an asp to the Egyptian, and the Greek was drowned in ink.
"Come out!" he said abruptly. "The air is close here."
"Will you come, Mrs. Lewis?" asked Miss Hamilton, looking back from the door.
The lady shook her head in an exhausted manner.
"Aura," said Margaret when they reached the veranda," will you come down to the beach with us?"
"Thank you, dear," said Aurelia gently, "I do not care to go."