“Why, I thought they always painted Judith with black hair; this one has hair the color of mine.”
“Perhaps it was his betrothed he painted,” said the other, “and in compliment to her he made it a portrait.”
“Then I should not like to be he. A ghostly bride he would have.”
“But look at her eyes; they seem like a corpse’s just come back to life.”
“Pshaw! how could a corpse come back to life? You mean a ghost.”
“No—Lazarus, you know. I can fancy how frightened and reproachful he might have looked when he woke up and found himself in his shroud.”
“I think he would look glad and thankful. But come away. It seems as if I should dream of that face.”
“Yes; it makes me feel very strange the more I look at it.”
And the two women moved off.
Presently another voice was heard in a muffled tone.