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Updated: May 9, 2025
Worn and haggard after his sleepless night, Desmond had scarcely spirit enough to look with curiosity on his fellow prisoners when the shed was faintly lit by the morning sun. One of the men was awake; and, catching Desmond's lusterless eyes fixed upon him, he sat up and returned his gaze. "Your Honor is an English gentleman?"
He had lost his family, his money and his health. He was, in short, a man completely broken tall, thin, with a cadaverous face, out of which shone two huge, lusterless eyes. He walked with an angular crawl that reminded one of the emaciated flies one sees at the beginning of winter dragging themselves perversely along as if struggling across an illimitable expanse of flypaper.
But it was not the Jeanne he had known. A terrible grief was written in her face. Her lips were bloodless, her eyes lusterless; deep suffering seemed to have put hollows in her cheeks. In a moment she had fallen upon her knees beside him and clasped one of his hands in both of her own. "I am so glad," she whispered, chokingly. For an instant she pressed his hands to her face. "I am so glad "
I got excited over her flabby cheeks, over those ridiculous dimples, that were half filled up, over that treble chin, that dyed hair, those lusterless eyes, and that nose, which was a caricature of Lucy's beautiful, attractive little nose. "I had a prescience of the future.
"And that is enough for you?" "Oh, more than enough sometimes much too much! And when shape and color and movement are so lovely and so fleeting and a strange world lies behind all this and lives and rejoices and desires and can express all this in voice and song, then you feel so lonely, that you cannot come closer to this world, and life grows lusterless and burdensome."
Out of the twilight shone a wan, round, lusterless ring that Rea said was the sun. The silence and desolation were heart-numbing. "Where are the wolves?" asked Jones of Rea. "Wolves can't live on snow. They're farther south after caribou, or farther north after musk-ox." In those few still intervals Jones remained out as long as he dared, with the mercury sinking to -sixty degrees.
She wore something ankle-length and long-sleeved in lusterless gray with an odd, smoky quality to it. "Isn't she the empress of Tranest or something of the sort?" Trigger asked. Quillan shook his head. "They've had no emperors there, technically, since they had to sign their treaty with the Federation. She just owns the planet, that's all." "What would she be doing, going to Manon?"
Karyl had held out his left hand. The right was bound down in a sling. But these things were all vague to Benton because it seemed that the pilgrim's tom-toms were beating inside his brain, and beating out of time. He could see that Karyl's eyes also were weary and lusterless. Turning with an excuse for travel-stain to be removed, Karyl halted. "Benton," he said. There he fell silent.
How he wanted that wealth which he so believed to be there. No, he could not work his claim. The children could not be left alone all day. That was out of the question. They must be cared for. How how? His brain grew hot, and he broke out into a sweat. His head drooped forward until his unshaven chin rested upon his sunken chest. His eyes were lusterless, his two rough hands clenched nervously.
Although she had passed her sixtieth year, she, too, still retained a youthful air as she went about, silent and active, in her eternal black gown and white cap that gave her the look of a nun, with her small, white, calm face, and lusterless eyes, the light in which seemed to have been extinguished.
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