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As the afternoon light faded from his chamber he dropped the pencil and paper with which he had been working and leaned back in his chair. His face was haggard and drawn, and sleepless nights had made dark circles about his deep-set eyes, while his face, which was naturally lean, had grown suddenly thin and hollow.
As it dimmed and withdrew, the shining of the walls came out more clearly. Peter saw then that they were all of coloured pictures wrought flat upon the gold, and as the glow of it increased they began to swell and stir like a wood waking. They leaned out from the walls, looking all one way toward the increasing light and tap-tap of the Princess' feet along the halls. "Peter, oh, Peter!"
The room with its many books, and the tall mullioned window with the bare elm branches across it, were all turning gently together in a spreading dimness. The only thing that remained fixed was Magdalen's shoulder, and even that shook a little. Fay leaned her face against it, and let all the rest go. The window with its tree quivered for a moment across the dark and then flickered out.
Still there was a wide road before them, with no apparent obstruction, and Charles, who tried to keep himself calm, hoped that the horses would soon be tired, and slacken their pace. He saw his companion's strength failing, and he leaned over and said, "Keep on one minute more and we shall do," when, most unfortunately, a waggon turned out of a field by the road side.
Huxtable the lawyer as he took his stand by the window. Only Joanna remained sitting at the table, her warm blue eyes seeming to reflect the evening's light, her arm round little Ellen, who leaned against her lap. The will was, after all, not so sensational as had been hoped.
But wherever McKay dug, his knife soon touched the solid rock below. And they wandered on. In the afternoon, resting in the shade, he noticed her lips were bleeding and turned away, sharply, unable to endure her torture. She seemed to understand his abrupt movement, for she leaned slightly against him where he sat amid the ferns with his back to a tree as a dog leans when his master is troubled.
The man looked around and leaned over the wheel as if about to impart a secret. "Say, I'll tell ye," he said in a low tone. "A real, first-class idiot never does. You ought to see my actions." "This land is an indication that you're right," Samson laughed. "It proves it," the stranger whispered. "Have you any water here?" Samson asked.
That chaste, healthy, firm, upright, hard, candid nature charmed him, without his being clearly aware of it, and without the idea of explaining it to himself having occurred to him. He admired his opposite by instinct. His soft, yielding, dislocated, sickly, shapeless ideas attached themselves to Enjolras as to a spinal column. His moral backbone leaned on that firmness.
Finally I leaned over and asked Will if he didn't want to go into the smoking-car. "Understand?" I inquired. "Surely," he replied, "surely, I do, Miss Canny," and left us. A half-an-hour outside New London Bob began to talk. "Do you want to hear about last night?" he asked me. "If you want to tell me," I replied. "Well, I found her. I found Ruth." "Yes, I know you did, Bob."
He read: Total mortgages on the lands of all the Grandissimes $ Total present value of same, titles at buyers' risk Cash, goods, and accounts Fausse Rivière Plantation account There were other items, but he took up the edge of the paper mechanically, pushed it slowly away from him, leaned back in his chair and again laid his hands upon his face.
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