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Updated: June 9, 2025
They tarried a little by the trickle of water, heeding the silence, breathing deep of the soft night, lifting their eyes to the stars. The world seemed young and sweet about them, clean and tender, a place of infinite peace and kindness rather than of a pursuing hate. They stood close together; their shoulders brushed companionably.
The white and crimson sign flapped in the soft breeze companionably responsive to the modest announcement, "Marble Workshop, Reproductions and Antiques, Garden Furniture," which so inadequately invited those whom it might concern to a view of the petrified vaudeville within.
The newspaper men chuckled and nudged each other companionably. Some of the staff turned away, plainly indicating that they had already had to listen to too much of that sort of thing. Kenyon looked him curiously over. "Mr. Elmendorf, do you ask that question in your sober senses, or only as a jocular reminder? Those identical words were addressed to me by an irate gentleman in Virginia in '62."
"My second-grade teacher told us a story how they was a' arctic explorer and he was out in a blizzard " " and I wish we had some tea-biscuits," concluded Gertie, companionably but firmly. "I'll go pick some hazelnuts." He left her feeding the flame. As he crept away, the fire behind him, he was dreadfully frightened, now that he had no one to protect.
"Got down that bank fine as silk," he volunteered companionably, "and then when I'd passed camera and was outa the scene, by thunder, I tangled up with a deep chuck-hole that was grown over with weeds, and like to have broken my fool neck. How's that for luck?" He took the cigar from his lips and smiled again with half-closed, measuring eyes.
Like many another wounded giant before him, he experienced the insufficiency of interjections to solace pain. For them, however, the rocks were handy to fling, the trees to uproot; heaven's concave resounded companionably to their bellowings. Relief of so concrete a kind is not to be obtained in crowded London assemblies. 'You are jesting? you are a jester, he contrived to say.
But to-night there had come a change over him. He wanted to talk. He wanted to ask questions. He longed for human companionship, for some kind of mental exhilaration beyond that furnished by his own thoughts. Feeling in his pocket for a cigar he seated himself before one of the windows and proffered it to the factor from Lac Bain. "You smoke?" he asked companionably.
If he noticed her smile, he gave no sign of it. "And you like Genoa? I mean, is there anything to like in this place?" he asked companionably. "I'll be hanged if I've seen anything but a few million mementoes of Christopher Columbus!" "There's the Palazzo Bianco, and the Palazzo Rosso, and, of course, there's the Campo Santo!" "But who cares for graveyards?"
At the top of the stairs he stopped for an instant and cocked his head a bit worriedly towards the drawing-room where from some slow-brightening alcove bird-carol after bird-carol went fluting shrilly up into the morning. "Is that those blasted canaries?" he asked briefly. Very companionably the White Linen Nurse cocked her own towsled head on one side and listened with him for half a moment.
But there was something of cheer about him even in this night of terror outside, and when he had driven his snowshoe into the snow wall, and had placed the lamp on it, he grinned companionably at Peter. Then, with a deep breath of satisfaction, he puffed out clouds of smoke from his pipe, and stood up to look about their room. "Not so bad, is it?" he asked.
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