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That footstep, whose spring she had strangely considered her own signal of joy, was not hers but another's. That laugh, the recollection of which made her smile even in these dreadful moments, was to echo in another's home.
Bright ideas never came to him, as of old; or else they were the ideas of other people. A miserable state of affairs! He was becoming an automaton an echo. An echo. . . . How right Keith had been! "It's rotten," he concluded. "I'm a ludicrous figure, a pathetic idiot." The novel impressions of Florence had helped in the disintegration.
The young girl called up all her strength into her heart for this supreme moment; she walked with a firm step; having reached the threshold, she turned round and waved him a farewell, preventing herself by a nervous contraction from bursting into tears, but as soon as she was in the corridor, a sob broke from her bosom, and Gabriel, who heard it echo from the vaulted roof, thought that his heart would break.
A few small fishing vessels still frequent its harbor, but the merchant ships, which used to contribute to its prosperity, are no longer seen. It is larger than Winchelsea and is built on a hill, its steep, narrow streets being lined with quaint houses. These two queer towns seem indeed like an echo from the past.
Before she could throw open the door and summon him back to happiness and trust, Bud, who had heard the full confession from the room in which he had taken refuge when he thought Buck would throw the blame on Jack, caught her by the arm. "Stop!" he commanded. "Bud Lane!" exclaimed Echo, "you have heard " "I've heard my brother he is alive!" Bud spoke rapidly. His belief was confirmed.
It means living front to front, lip to lip, with Nature at her loveliest, Echo at her most mysterious, with Heaven at its brightest and Earth at its greenest, and, all this time, breathing, with every breath, an atmosphere which is the elixir of life, so pure and sweet and strong. At Greely's you are, I believe, on the highest land inhabited in America. That land has a pure air upon it.
His eyes noticed marks of writing on the paper, and he mechanically picked it up and unfolded it. He gave a start. He had at once recognized the opening lines of the article printed in the Echo de France. And the whole article was there, written in ink, on ruled paper, with erasures, and with sentences added, struck out, and begun anew.
King and priest, warrior and maiden, philosopher and child, all must walk those mighty galleries alone. The solitude, therefore, which in this world appalls or fascinates a child's heart, is but the echo of a far deeper solitude, through which already he has passed, and of another solitude, deeper still, through which he has to pass: reflex of one solitude prefiguration of another.
They filled Fleda's mind, after they had once entered, and then nature's sympathy was again as readily given; each barren stern-looking hill in its guise of present desolation and calm expectancy seemed to echo softly, "patient continuance in well-doing." "Well," said Hugh, who entered the kitchen with her, "you have been late enough. Did you have a pleasant walk? You are pale, Fleda!"
"There are many men who can express their heart-thoughts in burning words, but this boon is not given to me. I can only tell you my hopes and fears and longings in the old, conventional words; but the earnest wish is mine that they may find an echo in your heart, little girl.
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