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Updated: June 14, 2025
"We'll stop at Brooks' for the shoes, then we'll go around to Dove's; I've a little commission for him." "Yas'm, yas'm," nodded Jess. The shoes were bought, Peggy selecting them and giving them to Bolivar with the words: "It will soon be Easter and this is my Easter gift to Nellie, with my love," she added with a smile which made the shoes a hundred-fold more valuable.
They see the cavalcades of wealth, they gaze at the ingots of gold and the great white silver bars; they look with longing eyes at the silks with colours that come and go like the iris on the dove's neck. The luxuries of meat and drink appeal to them. The temptation to live for these things assaults them. And what help does Gehazi get from Elisha to-day?
"Eva, come and show yourself to Teddie's friend, and then shake us a cocktail," called Jackson. Then he led Bateman to a long low window. "Look at that," he said, with a dramatic gesture. "Look well." Below them coconut trees tumbled down steeply to the lagoon, and the lagoon in the evening light had the colour, tender and varied, of a dove's breast.
The next afternoon, to the surprise of both Primrose and Daisy, Noel arrived. Daisy greeted her Prince with rapture, but refused to hear any particulars of Dove's trial. "I want to forget him," she said. "You say he is in the dungeon now. I don't want to think of it. If I think of it long I shall begin to be so sorry for him." "We will talk of something better and pleasanter," said Noel.
In fact, if the poor child, who had so much good taste as alone to have chosen to dress herself in white amidst all her companions if that dove's heart, so easily accessible to painful emotions, had been touched by the cruel words of Madame, or the egotistical cold smile of the king, it would have annihilated her.
The absence of everything like fashion or ornament was, as usual, atoned for by the most perfect neatness and cleanliness of her dress; and her simple close cap was particularly suited to eyes which had the softness and simplicity of the dove's.
It was the Poet who could look through the barriers those hitherto impervious barriers of an enemy's town, and see in it, at that moment, eyes as beautiful eyes that had been 'dove's eyes, too, to those who had loved them, wet with other tears, mothers that loved their sons, and 'lacked them'; it was the Poet to whose human sense those hard hostile walls dissolved and cleared away, till he could see the Volscian wives clasping their loves, as they 'came coffined home'; it was the Poet who dared to stain the joy and triumph of that fond meeting, the glory and pride of that triumphal entry, with those human thoughts; it was he who heard above the roll of the drum, and the swell of the clarions and trumpets, and the shout of the rejoicing multitude above the herald's voice the groans of mortal anguish in the field, the cries of human sorrow in the city, the shrieks of mothers that lacked sons, the greetings of wives whose loves 'came coffined home. And he does not mind aggravating the intense selfishness, and narrowness, and stolidity of these private passions and affections of the individual to a truly unnatural and diabolical intensity, by charging on poor Volumnia and Marcius his own reminiscences; as if they could have dared to heighten their joy at that moment by counting its cost as if they could have looked in the face as if they could have comprehended, in its actual dimensions, the theme of their vulgar, narrow, unlearned exultation.
His hair gray, Martha told me, before he was thirty was tufted out a little, like ruffled feathers, on each side. But the eyes were not those of an eagle; they were a dove's eyes. "A secret, little one, is a mole that burrows," said my uncle. The moment of insight was come. A voice seemed suddenly to say within me, "He has a secret; it is biting his heart!"
"Well, you may try," cried Forsyth in desperation, with a face of ashy paleness. It was an awful situation truly. In danger of his life; suffering the agonies of toothache, and with the prospect of torments unbearable from an inexpert hand; for Forsyth did not believe in Bremner's boasted powers. "What'll you do it with?" he enquired meekly. "Jamie Dove's small pincers.
Leaden-footed, it is an eternity; but winged with the dove's iris it is a mere moment. Besides, I must accustom myself to my youth. I must investigate its follies, I must learn the grammar of its wisdom. We'll take counsel together, Polyphemus, how to turn these chambers, fusty with decayed thought, into a bridal bower radiant and fragrant with innumerable loves.
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