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Updated: June 2, 2025
They were bigger than sunflower seeds and flatter and rounder, and they shone like silver, or like the pods of the plant we call honesty. "Oh, beautiful, beautiful!" said Dickie, letting the smooth shapes slide through his fingers. Have you ever played with mother-of-pearl card counters? The seeds of the moonflower were like those.
"But you have no right to insult me." "I'm not saying it, am I?" Kennon snapped. The moonflower on the bookcase behind Alexander was a thing of beauty. Alexander liked beauty. He had said so, and the Great Hall below them bore it out. It was a lovely room. Those four bronze Lani in the fountain were works of art. One of them looked remarkably like Copper. Copper in bronze.
Belle did not look old, sitting there in her white dress, like a white moonflower in that silver radiance, a little lock of soft blonde hair fluttering across her cheek.
But the moonflower he would like to have one more look at that. He got out into the garden there stood the stalk of the flower very tall in the deepening dusk. He touched the stalk. It was dry and hard three or four little dry things fell from above and rattled on his head. "Seeds, o' course," said Dickie, who knew more about seeds now than he had done when he saved the parrot seeds.
She had brought out another chair, with great difficulty, in anticipation of his coming. Her own was near the moonflower that climbed over the tiny veranda and was now in full bloom. The white, half-open trumpets, delicately fragrant, had more than once reminded him of Barbara herself. "What a brute I'd be," thought Roger, with a pang, "if I had disappointed her."
Then came the Matron in so great haste to beg of Dr. Ewing that she come at once unto the bedside of Fuku. "She hath an attack," saith the Matron and was departed. "Remain here, Moonflower, and make speech with whoever come in," Dr. Many persons make entrance and departure into office. Within, the volume was writ in parts. One part days of week; other part, hours of day. Also the writings of Dr.
I walked round the little house to the front garden which was planted with orange trees, and up to a big moonflower bush, I believe datura is its right name, that grew near the pomegranate hedge which separated my domain from the road. There a conversation was in progress, if so it may be called.
It stood up, beautiful and stately, and turned its cream-white face towards the sun. "The stalk's like a little tree," said Dickie; and so it was. It had great drooping leaves, and a dozen smaller white flowers stood out below it on long stalks, thinner than that needed to support the moonflower itself. "It is a moonflower, of course," he said, "if the other kind's sunflowers. I love it!
He crept into the house holding the stalk upright and steady as an acolyte carries a processional cross. The house was quite dark now, but a street lamp threw its light into the front room, bare, empty, and dusty. There was a torn newspaper on the floor. He spread a sheet of it out, kneeled by it and shook the moonflower head over it. The seeds came rattling out dozens and dozens of them.
A hundred feet ahead was a thin interlacing of moonflower vines, compact enough, no doubt, to prevent a view of the path to any one standing in the stronger light beyond the grove, but making distinct to Brice a grassy clearing beyond. Upon this clearing, the brief bright afterglow was shining, for the trim grass and shrubs of an upwardsloping lawn were clearly visible.
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