United States or Democratic Republic of the Congo ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Stone looked round bewildered; it seemed as if he, too, had been ignorant of that fact. "What is it that you've thought of?" The firelight leaped suddenly on to Mr. Stone's thin yellow hand. "Each of us," he said, "has a shadow in those places in those streets." There was a vague rustling, as of people not taking a remark too seriously, and the sound of a closing door.
Sometimes a gleam of the firelight threw her fine brown features into bold relief, but on these occasions, when Lawrence Armstrong chanced to observe them, they conveyed no expression whatever save that of profound gravity, with a touch, perhaps, of sadness. The bench being awkwardly situated for a table, they had arranged a small box, bottom up, instead.
The firelight shone on her hair, which was bound with a narrow golden band. Her hair was like a cloud of spun sunshine, and it seemed brighter than the flames. She was walking with downcast eyes, but presently she looked up. Her face was calm, and faultless as skilfully-hewn marble, and it seemed to be made of some substance different from the clay which goes to the making of men and women.
But he had nothing to say, not one word to the patient woman watching him there in the firelight, not one for love of the child who had climbed upon his knee and kissed him in that very room, who had played upon that little faded cricket, and wound her arms about the mother's neck, sitting just so, as she sat now. Yet he had loved her, the pure baby. That stung him.
Lowder if she had let you know, though I rather gathered she had; and it's what I've been in fact since then assuming. It was because I was so struck at the moment with your having, as she did tell me, so suddenly come here." "Yes, it was sudden enough." Very neat and fine in the contracted firelight, with her hands in her lap, Kate considered what he had said.
We all wanted to know what had been born in that long silence, for the firelight was bright in two eyes that were very wide and wise but the brain was only seven.... I left the circle and went up the cliff to find a book in the study a well-used book, an American book. Returning, I read this from it, holding the page close to the fire: OLD IRELAND
They were small, black, round, berry-like eyes, and as the firelight shone upon her smoky face, with its one striped cheek of gorgeous brilliancy, it was plainly the Princess Bob and no other. Not a word was spoken. They had been sitting thus for more than an hour, and there was about their attitude a suggestion that silence was habitual.
"The cheerfu' supper done, wi' serious face They round the ingle form a circle wide: The sire turns o'er, wi' patriarchal grace, The big ha' Bible, ance his father's pride." A grave, thoughtful face his was, lifted up so grandly amid that blooming semicircle of boys and girls, all gathered silently in the glow of the ruddy firelight!
Upon a little stand under the mirror, which catches now and then a flicker of the firelight, and makes it play wantonly over the ceiling, lies that big book reverenced of your New-England parents, the Family Bible.
Around one of the dismal, smoky fires an especially dejected mess found a spokesman with a vocabulary rich in comminations. "Sh!" breathed one of the ring. "Officer coming by. Heard you too, Williams all that about Old Jack." A figure wrapped in a cloak passed just upon the rim of the firelight. "I don't think, men," said a voice, "that you are in a position to judge.
Word Of The Day