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Updated: May 17, 2025
Then she laughed one of her wild silvery laughs that made them say she had a lute-like voice, and sauntered over toward her hostess: "You certainly are a queer girl!" she commented, "I suppose it would be better to be friends, inasmuch as we're to be roommates.
And then, just as he rose and steadied himself by the porch pillar, down the street in a whirl of dust and noisy claxon there came a great blue car and drew up sharp in front of the door, while a lute-like voice shouted gaily: "Laurie, Laurie Shafton, is that you?"
When in poetry he seeks to utter some audacious and defying sentiment, the substance melts away in daintiness of expression, in soft, lute-like strains of slender music.
And now as he issued quietly forth from a side door he could hear her lute-like voice laughing from his front porch, and looking back furtively he saw to his horror that the lady, as well as the gentleman, was smoking a cigarette!
Then Thomas, Pascal's friend, asked leave to sing a few verses; and, fixing his keen eyes upon the coquette, he began in tones of lute-like sweetness the following song, entitled 'The Syren with a Heart of Ice. We have translated it, as nearly as possible, from the Gascon dialect. "Faribolo pastouro, Sereno al co de glas, Oh! digo, digo couro Entendren tinda l'houro Oun t'amistouzaras.
When I look up at the blue sky I think of the radiance of her eyes, they were the heaven's own color, when I see light clouds floating together half gray, half tinted by the sun, they seem to me to resemble the soft and noiseless garb she wore, the birds sing, only to recall to me the lute-like sweetness of her voice, and at night, when I behold the millions upon millions of stars that are worlds, peopled as they must be with thousands of wonderful living creatures, perhaps as spiritually composed as she, I sometimes find it hard, that out of all the exhaustless types of being that love, serve, and praise God in Heaven, this one fair Spirit, only this one angel-maiden should not be spared to help and comfort me!
The woman was in a great summer hotel where extravagances of all sorts are in vogue, and it had been her latest game to call with her lute-like voice over the phone to three of her men friends who had wooed her the strongest, daring them all to come to her at once, promising to fly with the one who reached her first, but if none reached her before morning dawned she remained as she was and laughed at them all.
When in poetry he seeks to utter some audacious and defying sentiment, the substance melts away in daintiness of expression, in soft, lute-like strains of slender music.
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