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The door was softly opened, and I caught sight of a tall and slender girl of twenty, with a dark gypsy face, golden-brown eyes, and hair black as pitch; her large white teeth gleamed between full red lips. She had on a white dress; a blue shawl, pinned close round her throat with a gold brooch, half hid her slender, beautiful arms, in which one could see the fineness of her race.

Gypsy hurried away to array herself in the complication of garments necessary to the feminine adventurer, if she so much as crosses the yard; a continual mystery of Providence, was this little necessity to Gypsy, and one against which she lived in a state of incessant rebellion.

"So you see, Euan, that the half naked little gypsy of Poundridge camp comes not entirely shameless to her husband after all. Oh, my own soldier, hasten hasten! Every day I hear drums in Albany streets and run out to see; every evening I sit with my mother on the stoop and watch the river redden in the sunset. Over the sandy plains of pines comes blowing the wind of the Western wilderness.

Then she added with a pitiless expression, well aware that she was about to pierce the priest's heart with thousands of red-hot irons, "Ah! I know that Phoebus is not dead!" The priest overturned Quasimodo on the floor with a kick, and, quivering with rage, darted back under the vault of the staircase. When he was gone, Quasimodo picked up the whistle which had just saved the gypsy.

In 1868 she published her long poem, The Spanish Gypsy, reading Spanish literature carefully, and finally passing some time in Spain, that she might be the better able to make a lasting work. Had she given her life to poetry, doubtless she would have been a great poet. Silas Marner, written before Romola, in 1861, had been well received, and Middlemarch, in 1872, made a great sensation.

As they moved forward through the silent forest the gypsy sang softly to himself: "The Romany chal to his horse did cry As he placed the bit in his jaw, Kosko gry, Romany gry, Muk, man, kuster, tute knaw." He was still humming this weird tune when they emerged into the open fields, and there the traveler experienced a surprise.

She heard such a singing and shouting as no one had made in the house since Gypsy went away, and hurried out into the front entry to see what had happened. Tom ran in from the garden, and Winnie slid down on the banisters, and Mr.

Gypsy's bowed head fell into her hands, and there, crouched in the lonely boat, under the lonely sky, she put this thought into a few whispered words, and I know there was One to hear it. Other thoughts had Gypsy after this; but they were those she could not have put into words.

She intended to employ the vernacular that was part of the disguise of Gypsy Nan. If Shluker, for that was certainly Shluker there, gave the slightest indication that he took it amiss, her explanation would come glibly and logically enough she had to be careful; how was she supposed to know whether there was any one else about, or not!

'I am sorry to say, I replied, 'that my Gypsy wanderings are again answerable for my shortcomings. I have not yet seen your picture. When I do see it I 'Not seen "Faith and Love" and the equally wonderful predella at the foot of it! he exclaimed incredulously. 'Ah, but you have been living among the Gypsies. It is the greatest picture of the modern world; for, Mr.

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