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The little creature addressed the deities who had become penetrated with fear and who were all very eager to obtain a sight of the deity of fire, saying, "Ye gods, Agni is now residing in the nethermost regions. Scorched by the energy of that deity, and unable to bear it longer, I have come hither. The illustrious bearer of sacrificial libations, ye gods, is now under the waters.
And yet I cannot weep, Alice; I cannot weep, for I feel that my brain is burning, and my heart scorched. And now, for my only melancholy consolation!"
For days the sky had been cloudless, the sun scorched unbearably and from early morning the warm wind raised a whirl of hot sand from the sand-drifts and from the road, and bore it in the air through the reeds, the trees, and the village. The grass and the leaves on the trees were covered with dust, the roads and dried-up salt marshes were baked so hard that they rang when trodden on.
He fixed his sharp gaze on Andrey, and waited with set teeth. His mottled face remained immobile, and a quiver passed over his thick lips, as if scorched by a flame. "I have nothing to say!" said the Little Russian, meeting Vyesovshchikov's hostile glance with a bright, warm, yet melancholy look of his blue eyes.
He stared down on the rocky floors. If he could but see through them.... and the eye of faith could see through them.... he should behold her writhing and twisting among the flickering flame, scorched, glowing.... in everlasting agony, such as the thought of enduring for a moment made him shudder.
At this grand moment we do not think of the hundreds of miles we have marched, or of the hundreds of hills that we have ascended and descended, or of the many forests we have traversed, or of the jungles and thickets that annoyed us, or of the fervid salt plains that blistered our feet, or of the hot suns that scorched us, nor of the dangers and difficulties, now happily surmounted!
After some moments, the dying man said almost in a whisper: "I never knew you were punished for my sin, until it was too late to save you, but God's witness cleared your pure name. The lightning that scorched me, printed its testimony to set you free. My sister my sister God will surely recompense your faithful " The voice died in a quivering gurgle. "I have my reward, dear Bertie.
He saw the fleeing fair one disappear into the distance and in the shortest time on record he heard the clanging of her bicycle bell as she scorched down his drive. "Puffy and stippled" "Puffy and stippled"! Mr. Withells repeated to himself this rudely personal remark as he walked slowly towards the house. What could she mean? And what in the world had he said to make her so angry?
Her brain boggled at an elusive spiritual idea. She was very young, flung cleanly trained from the convent into the war's terrific tragedy, wherein maiden romantic fancies were scorched in the tender bud. Only her honest traditions of marriage remained. Of love she knew nothing. She leaped beyond it, seeking, seeking. She would never see him again. There she met the Absolute.
The houses, descending to the river brink, were cracked, scorched, rusted by innumerable burning summers, like so many antique bronzes.
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