Down each broad and shining street the two end houses framed a vista of its dim immensity glimpses of shimmering blue, or flame-touched purple. There were stretches of deep sea-green as well, far off upon its bosom. The streets were open channels of approach, and the eye ran down them as along the tube of a telescope laid to catch incredible distance out of space.
"You mean you are going to to live in Kenmore?" "Yes! Live! That is a bright way of putting it. Live! live! The Beetle is going to live!" Priscilla looked about at the rich comfort of the room, thought of what it meant to the delicate cripple crouching toward the blaze, his deep eyes flame-touched and wonderful. Then she looked at Master Farwell, whose lips were trembling.