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Updated: June 21, 2025
Her mother was inaccessibly entrenched in a brown study; her father contemplating fate in the vinery. Neither of them had a word to throw to a dog. 'Is it because of me? thought Fleur. 'Or because of Profond? To her mother she said: "What's the matter with Father?" Her mother answered with a shrug of her shoulders. To her father: "What's the matter with Mother?" Her father answered: "Matter?
"It's inaccessibly beautiful!" she brought out sharply. Fred and Dr. Archie watched her. In a moment she turned back to them. "It's impossible to sing a part like that well for the first time, except for the sort who will never sing it any better. Everything hangs on that first night, and that's bound to be bad. There you are," she shrugged impatiently.
In the spontaneous operations of nature there is generally such complication and such obscurity, they are mostly either on so overwhelmingly large or on so inaccessibly minute a scale, we are so ignorant of a great part of the facts which really take place, and even those of which we are not ignorant are so multitudinous, and therefore so seldom exactly alike in any two cases, that a spontaneous experiment, of the kind required by the Method of Difference, is commonly not to be found.
What is here affirmed is that the beautiful woman who is widely and wisely likened to the flowers, which are inaccessibly more beautiful, must not, for her own sake, be likened to the always accessible child. Besides light and colour, children have a beauty of finish which is much beyond that of more finished years.
Her mother was inaccessibly entrenched in a brown study; her father contemplating fate in the vinery. Neither of them had a word to throw to a dog. 'Is it because of me? thought Fleur. 'Or because of Profond? To her mother she said: "What's the matter with Father?" Her mother answered with a shrug of her shoulders. To her father: "What's the matter with Mother?" Her father answered: "Matter?
Thou art the Ancient of Days Whom none can ever describe through the evidences of Thy glory and majesty, and Thou art the mighty One Whom none can ever comprehend through the revelations of Thy greatness and beauty, inasmuch as the expressions of majesty and grandeur and the attributes of dominion and beauty are but the tokens of Thy divine Will and the effulgent reflections of Thy sovereignty which, by reason of their very essence and nature, proclaim that the way is barred and bear witness that the pathway is inaccessibly beyond the reach of men.
The place of our sanctuary implies access to the inaccessibly High, communion with the infinitely Separate, security and abode in God Himself. He that dwelleth in God dwelleth in peace. These, then, are the points of the prophet's vision of God.
Then they were interested in people who went out and found their friends waiting for them, or else did not find them, and wandered disconsolately up and down before the country stations, carpet-bag in hand; in women who came aboard, and were awkwardly shaken hands with or sheepishly kissed by those who hastily got seats for them, and placed their bags or their babies in their laps, and turned for a nod at the door; in young ladies who were seen to places by young men the latter seemed not to care if the train did go off with them, and then threw up their windows and talked with girl-friends, on the platform without, till the train began to move, and at last turned with gleaming eyes and moist red lips, and panted hard in the excitement of thinking about it, and could not calm themselves to the dull level of the travel around them; in the conductor, coldly and inaccessibly vigilant, as he went his rounds, reaching blindly for the tickets with one hand while he bent his head from time, to time, and listened with a faint, sarcastic smile to the questions of passengers who supposed they were going to get some information out of him; in the trainboy, who passed through on his many errands with prize candies, gum-drops, pop-corn, papers and magazines, and distributed books and the police journals with a blind impartiality, or a prodigious ignorance, or a supernatural perception of character in those who received them.
But he was inaccessibly far away, isolated, his voice rapid and hard and clear, his manner normal: every nerve stripped bare but still rigid. Inexperienced as she was, Isabel had a shrewd idea of his immediate need. She took up the ring that Lawrence had wrenched off and slipped it on his finger again. "Don't do that," said Lawrence starting: "why do you do that?"
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