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It was there as she roused herself from her half-somnolent state; it was there in the consciousness of a turning-point in her life in Gerald's, in Althea's. 'We may write something on Althea's pages, was the thought with which, smiling over its inappropriateness, she went upstairs. And the fancy faded from her memory, as if it had been a bird's wing that brushed her cheek in the darkness.

Kirsha spoke a word now and then. They said little on the way, in odd, disjointed words. Arrived at their destination, they got out of the cart. They were in a half-somnolent state. Kirsha was off before they realized that they had not thanked him. When they looked for him they could only see a cloud of dust and hear the clatter of hoofs and the rattle of wheels on the cobblestones.

In this half-somnolent state he obtained not one moment of inward collectedness, of quiet reflection; not even when he gazed up at the starry heavens, or looked down on the oasis, veiled in night, where many others like himself were deserted by sleep.

There is the clear and beautiful dawn of new and balanced effort, easy, unresting, planned, assured, and there is also the blundering-up of a still half-somnolent man, irascible, clumsy, quarrelsome, who stubs his toe in his first walk across the room, smashes his too persistent alarum clock in a fit of nerves, and cuts his throat while shaving.

Another moment and he was roused from his half-somnolent condition by the hearing of the sharp report of a pistol shot, followed by a sound from Nero, something between a moan and a howl. He sprang to the floor, but ere he could make his way into the hall he was well-nigh stunned by hearing a tremendous crash, as though some large body had been hurled violently down the stairs from top to bottom.

Adister inquired, and his look requesting enlightenment told her she might speak. 'Adiante, she said softly. She coloured. Her uncle mused awhile in a half-somnolent gloom. 'He talks of this at this present day? 'It is not dead to him. He really appears to have hoped . . . he is extraordinary. He had not heard before of her marriage.

He let his thoughts run free in this manner, sitting his horse listlessly, for he was tired mentally and physically, watching the gray road idly as it slipped past beneath the muffled hoofs, and lulled by Savigno's musical humming. It was while he was still in this half-somnolent, semidetached frame of mind that he rode into a sudden white-hot whirl of events.

After a pause, "But how would she like this?" she asked. Without opening his eyes, Harrison murmured, "She'd like it fine. She's a great girl for outdoors." His companion glanced down at him sharply, but in his tranquil and half-somnolent face there was no trace of evasiveness. "I don't mean the park, the spring weather," she went on, with a persistence which evidently cost her an effort.

If one could but cry out, but give wail to one's yearning, one's woe, one's unendurable pain!" She said this with a passion unusual to her and grew silent. It was drawing towards evening, and once more Trirodov was alone, tormented by his unceasing sadness. His mind was in a whirl. He was in a half-somnolent state, which was like the foreboding of a nightmare.

Little by little, he regained his senses; at first, for several minutes, he was floating in a sort of half-somnolent revery, which was not without its charm, in which aeriel figures of the gypsy and her goat were coupled with Quasimodo's heavy fist. This state lasted but a short time.