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"I wouldn't have thought he had so much in him." "Oughtn't we to undo his collar?" Then the remarks evaporated into nonsense, but only for a space, after which the nonsense solidified into sentences again. "Don't you think we ought to send for Chappy?" "Wait and see if he'll come round. His colour's returning."
"It's lovely," said the other woman, with an appreciation quite genuine. "What a pity you can't always wear it like that!" "It's long," said Betty disparagingly, "but the colour's horrid. What Miss Voscoe calls Boy colour." "Boy colour?" "Oh, just nothing in particular. Mousy." "If you had golden hair, or black, Miss Desmond, you'd have a quite unfair advantage over the rest of us."
Lady Berryl hastened to her friend's assistance. "There! her colour's coming again," said Lord Clonbrony; "come away, my dear Lady Clonbrony, for the present, and so will I though I long to talk to the darling girl myself; but she is not equal to it yet." When Grace came to herself, she first saw Lady Berryl leaning over her, and, raising herself a little, she said, "What has happened?
Your colour's fresh, so was your mother's before you. To be sure, she wasn't cooped up like you." "Oh, we do get a little fresh air sometimes in the parks, for instance," said Phoebe. She was somewhat piqued by the idea that she was supposed to live in London smoke. "Ah, the parks are always something; but I suppose it takes you a day's journey to get at them," said Mr. Tozer, shaking his head.
She would have dropped down dead on the spot if his wet and angry glance could have killed her. She was a powerful woman. She seized him carefully and set him in the chair, and supported the famous spine with the cushion. "I don't think he's much hurt," she decided. "He couldn't make that noise if he was, and see how his colour's coming back!"
His adoration of Monticelli and his jewelled style led him to Impressionism. But colour for colour's sake or optical illusion did not long hold him. The overloaded paint in his earlier works soon gave way to flat modelling. His effects are achieved by sweeping contours instead of a series of planes. There are weight, sharp silhouettes, and cruel analysis.
The colt came delicately with outstretched neck and wide nostrils, fearing for his liberty, yet poking out his nose toward the extended palm on which there lay a piece of bread. "Looks as if he might make into something, don't you think?" said the girl. "Lots of bone." "What colour's he going to be?" asked the young man. "Black-brown with bay points. Black-and-tan, mother calls him."
"What he's getting now is good for him. I had to change his food, miss, but this seems all right. His colour's better." Betty herself bent over the flower as she might have bent over a child. Her eyes softened, she touched a leaf with a slim finger, as delicately as if it had been a new-born baby's cheek. As Mount Dunstan watched her he drew a step nearer to her side.
And now they all look like convicts. Hester and I were saying only yesterday we were sure they must feel it very much. Fancy what the Iron Duke would have said!" "The new colour's very smart," said Winifred; "Val looks quite nice in his." Aunt Juley sighed. "I do so wonder what Jolyon's boy is like. To think we've never seen him! His father must be so proud of him."
She talked automatically to keep herself from exhibition of despair. "I'll darn that; it's as good as new except for one thin patch. These shirts have lasted very well, haven't they? The colour's hardly faded at all. You ought to have had new vests, but I daresay you'll have ample opportunity for buying them. To-morrow morning I'll sponge your navy suit with ammonia. What time are you going?
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