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Updated: June 26, 2025
Miss Elfride's image chose the form in which she was beheld during these minutes of singing, for her permanent attitude of visitation to Stephen's eyes during his sleeping and waking hours in after days.
Stephen Smith, not being in such absolute ignorance of Knight's whereabouts as Knight had been of Smith's instantly recognized his friend, and knew by rote the outlines of the fair woman standing behind him. Stephen came forward and shook him by the hand, without speaking. 'Why have you not written, my boy? said Knight, without in any way signifying Elfride's presence to Stephen.
Once in the hall she ran upstairs and into her room, and flung herself down upon her bed, weeping bitterly. 'Where is Elfride? said her father at luncheon. Knight listened anxiously for the answer. He had been hoping to see her again before this time. 'She isn't well, sir, was the reply. Mrs. Swancourt rose and left the room, going upstairs to Elfride's apartment.
Put it down to my wanderings in France and Italy. 'Don't say another word, but sit down. I am only too glad to see you again. Stephen would hardly have cared to tell Knight just then that the minute before Knight was announced he had been reading over some old letters of Elfride's.
Low as the words had been spoken, Elfride had heard them, and awaited Stephen's reply in breathless silence, if that could be called silence where Elfride's dress, at each throb of her heart, shook and indicated it like a pulse-glass, rustling also against the wall in reply to the same throbbing.
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