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Updated: May 29, 2025
What a contrast to the deep shadow of the church was the brilliant white light that I met outside, and to the grave-like silence the sawing sound of the cicadas, drunk with sunshine, in the neighbouring tree-tops! I set out from Riberac to cross that tract of country between the Dronne and the Isle which is known as the Double.
He loved even the gray, lifeless rock, which recalled to his imaginative genius the terrific and interesting life that had once existed he loved the ghostly majesty of the grave-like pinnacle that rose above him, and beyond that he loved all the world.
Work had just been stopped, and they recalled their visit to the place on the morrow of Maurice's death. They were returning to the same stillness, the same grave-like silence. All the rumbling life had suddenly ceased, the machines were cold and mute, the workshops darkened and deserted. Not a sound remained, not a soul, not a puff of that steam which was like the very breath of the place.
Often at night, just ere the sleep that wipes out the day from the overfilled and blotted tablets of the brain, enwrapped him in its cool, grave-like garments, a vision of the darkened sea, spotted and spangled with pools of unutterable light, would rise before him unbidden, in that infinite space for creation which lies dark and waiting under the closed eyelids.
And now their long, tear-drenched tenderness, their pure idyl of suffering, was ending in this brutal separation; she on her side saved, radiant amidst the hosannas of the triumphant Basilica; and he lost, sobbing with wretchedness, bowed down in the depths of the dark crypt in an icy, grave-like solitude. It was as though he had just lost her again, and this time forever and forever.
Muffled in heavy furs he stood for a moment filling up the storm doorway, gazing out over a desolate prospect, a scene of grave-like, significant stillness. The mills he loved were completely idle. But that was not all. He knew them to be at the mercy of an army of men who had abandoned their work at the call of wanton political and commercial agitators. It was disaster, grievous disaster.
"The fresh night had a smell of soil, of turned-up sods like a grave an association particularly odious to a sailor by its idea of confinement and narrowness; yes, even when he has given up the hope of being buried at sea; about the last hope a sailor gives up consciously after he has been, as it does happen, decoyed by some chance into the toils of the land. A strong grave-like sniff.
This intelligence is entirely new, and, first of all it must be verified." At a sign from Herhor the judge of Thebes drew out an act concluded two days before between the most worthy high priest of Amon, San-Amen- Herhor, and Queen Niort's, widow of Ramses XII, and mother of Ramses XIII. After this explanation came a grave-like silence. Herhor began again,
He certainly wrote in his journal, if he had one, in the evening: "To-day a traveller drove through the town; who he was, God knows, for I don't!" yes, that was what the shop-boy's face said, and an honest face it was. In the inn at which I arrived, there was the same grave-like stillness as in the street.
The king laughed, quite delighted with his jest, while, leaning on the earl's arm, he crossed to the little boudoir on the other side, and took his place in the armchair set near the door. "Now we must extinguish the light; and may it please your majesty to await in silence the things that are to come." The earl extinguished the light, and deep darkness and a grave-like stillness now followed.
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