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Updated: June 20, 2025
And piled in an intricate magnificence of curls, puffs and coils about the haughty little head of the lady, was her gold-bronze hair; the color of the braid upstairs in my chiffonier drawer. I went up to my room and opened the work of Master Abimelech Fetherstone. Yes, there was likeness between the poor, coarse woodcut and the French portrait.
But I am such a poor and sorry Beast, without the chance of a transformation; a commonplace Beast, dull and didactic; a besotted, purblind, despicable Beast! Yet Judith loved me. Instead of thanking on my knees the high gods for the boon conferred, I rejected it, and went mad for craving of the infinitely lesser glory of Carlotta's baby lips and gold-bronze hair. I have broken Judith's heart.
He owed her something for that why did she try to protect him? Wonderful eyes, too, the little thing had deep and dark and how the flame did dart from them when she got angry! He smiled, remembering he liked that. And her hair it was exactly like the gold-bronze on the wing of a wild turkey that he had shot the day before.
The deeper waters of the lake, far away, take a tender violet indescribable, and the silhouette of the pine-shadowed island seems to float in that sea of soft sweet colour. But the shallower and nearer is cut from the deeper water by the current as sharply as by a line drawn, and all the surface on this side of that line is a shimmering bronze old rich ruddy gold-bronze.
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