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Five times a day the Mussulman kneels in open adoration of his Maker, and, doffing his slippers, repeats, with forehead to the ground, the formula laid down for him by the only Prophet he has learnt to believe in.
The back and sides of the latter are of a reddish brown in summer, in winter of a blackish brown; the belly, breast, and inside of the legs are white; the mouth, forehead, and the exterior of the ears are black. The animal grows to the height of two feet and a half.
He stood where he was with his arms crossed, and he kept his word. The red cinder hissed upon his lips; he shut his eyes, he ground his teeth together, the sweat beaded his forehead and glistened in his hair. Once he reeled over, and would have fallen if Ridolfo had not been there to catch him; but he did not sing the tune they had expected, and presently they let him alone.
That night he went to bed and slept the sleep of the just. He had the bed and the room now all to himself, and would have slept till morning had he not been roused by a very singular circumstance. As he lay sleeping, it seemed to him that there was a touch on his forehead of something like a hand, and a murmur in his ear of something like a voice, and, what is more, a woman's voice.
His wife came behind him and laid a white hand upon his forehead; but her touch seemed to madden him, and he sprang away from her. "No more of that," he cried. "If I was weak when I married you I will never be weak again. You have your child. Let that be enough for your tenderness. I want none of it myself. Do you hear? I wish to devote myself henceforth to my parish. My parish!
He felt as though he had been caught in the wheels of an unstoppable machine and was in vague but serious danger. The Presence was a bold man, with a flowing light brown moustache, blue eyes, and a vast forehead. He wore a black velvet coat, and sat at a small table on which was a small black velvet cushion.
Suddenly Lenora, whose face was turned towards the entrance doors, gave a little cry. She took a quick step forward. "Laura!" she exclaimed, wonderingly. "Why, it's Laura!" They all turned around. A young woman had just entered the hotel, followed by a porter carrying some luggage. Her arm was in a sling and there was a bandage around her forehead. She walked, too, with the help of a stick.
She was clothed in filmy green, and about her little waist was a broad silver girdle. Her hair waved back from her forehead on either side; there were curls not too wayward and yet astray, and on her brow was a little tiara, set with a single star.
He stood now in the hall where he was in a position to hear all that was going on. Beatrice had rushed to the door and beat her hands upon it. She was pulled away more or less roughly by the man called Reggie, but she did not seem to notice it. "Am I mad or dreaming?" she said as she pressed her hands to her forehead. "I could have sworn that I heard a voice calling me, a voice "
I thought of papa and mamma and Mogilev and Grumaher. . . . I prayed. . . . But happily . . . it frightens me even to think of it. . . ." Alexandr Ivanitch gave a constrained smile and rubbed his forehead with his hand. "But happily it fell beside me and only caught this side a little. . . . It tore off coat, shirt and skin, you know, from this side. . . . The force of it was terrific.
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