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The girl's beauty stirred in him no mood but that. She slept with complete calm of feature the half-lights that came through the foliage made an exquisite pallor on her face, contrasting with the dark masses of her hair. Her bosom rose and fell in the softest sighing; her pure throat was like marble, and her just parted lips seemed to need a protector from the bees....
Above his head were festoons of gayly painted peppers. He had a long gray beard, wore a green turban and a flowing robe with a gold-braided waistcoat. In the half-lights of the crowded, covered bazaar his was a setting in which Dulac would have revelled. At Museyib we led a peaceful, uneventful existence completely shut in by the mud.
Even if Dulcie's winter sports hadn't done the trick I guess it would of been done easy by her report that Bohemians was no longer thought to be smart in New York, Red Gap being keenly sensitive in such matters. Metta Bigler's mother firmly turned out the half-lights in Bohemia when she heard of this talk of Dulcie's. I don't blame her.
What has this blaze of colour, this shouting of voices, this blowing of trumpets to do with the soft half-lights of the world and the mystery of the darkness from which we came and to which we return?
"This time of the year, the early morning is really the best part of the day. Don't you think so?" adds another. "Oh, undoubtedly." "So cool and fresh." "And the half-lights are so exquisite." The first morning one maintains one's vows. The party assembles at half- past five.
His heart swelled with a feeling for which he had no name, as he sat there, his back against a camel, staring out into the night, an unknown feeling in which joy was very deep and triumph was merged into a holy thankfulness. He had meant but forty winks, but it had been dark when his eyes closed and he opened them to the unreal half-lights of early dawn.
Buried in half-lights, this song of stone with the statue of the Trinity and St. James, with the angels blowing their trumpets from the walls, and the virtues and vices of this world symbolized by groups and by persons, is of a sincere poetry that leaves a lasting impression upon the spectator.
Shortly he was reposing upon his pillow, over which his holy-water font a large crimson heart of crystal with flames of burnished gold, set upon a tablet of white marble seemed almost to pulsate in the exquisite half-lights of approaching dawn.
As I have pointed out in the foregoing pages, its themes are often so indeterminate, so shadowy and elusive, as to rebuke the analyst who would disengage and expose them. Many of them are simply harmonic hues and half-lights, melodic shreds and fragments, whose substance is as impalpable as mist and whose outlines waver and fade almost before they are perceived.
Why, he did not know, save that he felt aching satiety. Here in the streets were half-lights, afterglow from the sunken sun and smoky torches. The latter increased in number, the oil-lamps, great and small, were lit, the tapers of various qualities and thicknesses.
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