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Updated: May 16, 2025
Straight, direct logic characterized the speech from beginning to end; only once did a suggestion of sentiment curt pity for that gin-besotted thing, the prisoner! obtrude itself; then it passed so quickly his lordship forgot to intervene, and the effect remained, a flash, illuminating, Rembrandt-like!
The gem lay between them like a splash of crimson flame. "We must have made a Rembrandt-like picture" to quote the young man again "the two of us bending over this table by the light of a solitary candle. There was a wan reflection of the flame from the polished table-top, but elsewhere all was darkness and the shadows crowded in close.
Strange as it may seem, the mind of the hireling cannot grasp the importance of the lesser tasks that go to make up the sum of existence. If you allow Bridget to prepare your guest chamber for an unexpected friend, you will observe that she glories in Rembrandt-like effects, which, when viewed at a distance, assume a respectable appearance.
A wild, stormy, rainy night then set in, but still the royalist party citizens and soldiers intermingled all armed to the teeth, and uttering fierce cries, while the whole scene was fitfully illuminated with the glare of flambeaux and blazing tar-barrels, kept watch in the open square around the city hall. A series of terrible Rembrandt-like nightpieces succeeded grim, fantastic, and gory.
Knives, forks, and plates there were none. A Flemish servant divided the food with his pocket-knife. A farthing candle gave a Rembrandt-like effect to the scene. The boys slept that night on mattresses laid on the floor of one of the big empty rooms of the house.
A wild, stormy, rainy night then set in, but still the royalist party citizens and soldiers intermingled all armed to the teeth, and uttering fierce cries, while the whole scene was fitfully illuminated with the glare of flambeaux and blazing tar-barrels, kept watch in the open square around the city hall. A series of terrible Rembrandt-like nightpieces succeeded grim, fantastic, and gory.
In her dream, Cyclona looked long and lovingly at the strong, fine lines of it brought out by this unexpected high light of the skies, accentuated Rembrandt-like against the darkness of the hole in the ground. Yes. It was in the hole in the ground and not that other room of the Beautiful House. As she looked the calm dream face of Seth turned to her with a smile of ineffable content.
Cyclona looked at him long and earnestly, at the strong, fine lines of sadness brought beautifully out by this unexpected high-light of the skies, accentuated Rembrandt-like, against the darkness of the earth-colored hole in the ground. Then she bent her sunburnt head and a tear fell on her hand outstretched upon the table.
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