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Clutsam seemed about to speak, but her eyes met those of Lady Ruth fixed on her with an expressionless gaze, and she turned round without a word and took up her discarded pen. They were both thinking the same thing. If David concealed his feelings in the presence of Miss Tarver he was not so successful when he was in Juliet's neighbourhood.
"Are you organizing a strike?" suggested Saltash, a wicked gleam of humour in his eyes. Dick's eyes flashed in answer. "I am not!" he said. "But I'm damned if they haven't some reason for striking if he cares as little as that!" "How often do you tell 'em so?" said Saltash. Juliet's hand slipped quietly from Columbus's head to Dick's arm. "May I have a cigarette, please?" she said.
Reading from the book I proceeded to enact this most touching scene, alternately speaking in my own voice as Romeo and then imparting to Juliet's line a more dulcet tone and a softened inflection such as my copartner in the rendition would employ.
From Juliet's home, to Juliet's tomb, is a transition as natural to the visitor, as to fair Juliet herself, or to the proudest Juliet that ever has taught the torches to burn bright in any time.
In the first few weeks my artist's ears and eyes and soul were hazed to a frazzle. From "that boy who will go far" I became "you damn young freshman." I was told to make love to a horse's hind leg, I was made to perch on a gatepost and read the tenderest passages of "Romeo and Juliet," replacing Romeo's name by my own, and Juliet's by that of stout Mrs.
"Married, say you?" "Married to him that sent me hither a gentleman of winning ways and a most choice conceit, the scion of a noble house here in Verona one Romeo." The oddest little expression flitted over Juliet's face. There was never woman yet, even on her bridal day, could forgive a jilted lover marrying. "Ophelia wed!" murmured the bridegroom. "Do you know the lady, dear?"
Bosher's heavy steps went down the wooden stairs; the door of the house was opened, shut, and locked, and Juliet's spirits rose when she knew that she was alone. She might as well run away at once. She looked at the window. It was in the roof a skylight. There was no means of getting up to it, and no means of opening it that Juliet could perceive. Oh, she was caught in a trap!
When somebody discovered the Differential Calculus there was only one Differential Calculus he could discover. But when Shakespeare killed Romeo he might have married him to Juliet's old nurse if he had felt inclined. And Christendom has excelled in the narrative romance exactly because it has insisted on the theological free-will.
He sat there an injured husband, a wronged, woman-cheated, mocked man he in whose eyes even a smutch on her face would have lowered a woman who would not have listened to an angel with a broken wing-feather! Let me not be supposed to make a little of Juliet's loss! What that amounted to, let Juliet feel! let any woman say, who loves a man, and would be what that man thinks her!
He turned beside her without a word. They went down the shingle to the edge of the sand and began to walk along the shore. For many seconds they walked in silence. Juliet's eyes were fixed upon the mighty outline of High Shale Point that stood out like a fortress, dark, impregnable, against the calm of the evening sky. Her companion sauntered beside her, his hands behind him.
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