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Updated: June 27, 2025
All the windows were open to catch the faint wind, and we had sat for a long time watching the Otzethaler Alps turn rose-color over distant Innsbrück, then deepen to violet as the sun went down and the white mists rose slowly until Lichtwer and Laneck and Kropfsberg rose like craggy islands in a silver sea. And this is the story as Fräulein E told it to us, the Story of Kropfsberg Keep.
Some are double, some single, some white, some pink. Among the most desirable for general culture I would name Van Houteii, a veritable fountain of pure white blossoms in May and June, Prunifolia, better known as "Bridal Wreath," with double white flowers, Billardi, pink, and Fortunei, delicate, bright rose-color.
The moon had risen; the sunset glow had not yet died off the slopes of the Assisi hill-sides. It streamed through the perforated belfry of San Domenico; it steeped in rose-color the slender and turreted shaft of San Pietro, "Perugia's Pennon," the Arrowhead of Umbria. It gilded the gaunt houses that jut out upon the spine of the Borgo hill into the valley of the Tiber.
Behind him walked his twin sister as like Tom Cameron as another pea in a pod and Ann Hicks, both in rose-color, completing a color scheme worthy of the taste of whoever had originated it. For the sheer beauty of the picture, this wedding would long be remembered.
Would they sell their church to him? He waited for an answer. There was a hush. The eyes that watched him seemed almost overwhelming in their vigilance. His eyes went wistfully off to the sky in front of him. What beaches of gold and weed-tangles of rose-color those were to the north-west the way of England. Suddenly the silence was broken. Azariah spoke out bravely.
Their gaze at once proud and mournful, had something fatal about it. The nose, finely formed, terminated in slight dilated nostrils: a half smile, almost of pain, contracted the mouth; the face was a long oval, and the complexion, extremely pale, was hardly shaded on the cheek by a light rose-color. The position of the head and neck announced a rare mixture of grace and dignity.
Their gaze at once proud and mournful, had something fatal about it. The nose, finely formed, terminated in slight dilated nostrils: a half smile, almost of pain, contracted the mouth; the face was a long oval, and the complexion, extremely pale, was hardly shaded on the cheek by a light rose-color. The position of the head and neck announced a rare mixture of grace and dignity.
"I foolishly told you what I imagined, and you at once make fun of me," said Aline, whose round face lengthened at each word, and passed from rose-color to scarlet; "is it my fault that my brother said this?" "I do not think it was necessary for him to speak of it, for you to think a great deal about the matter." "Very well; must one not think of something?"
Isn't it time to go back now? See! the rose-color is away from Ulva now; it is quite a dark purple." He turned in silence and led the way back. Behind them he could faintly hear Mr. White discoursing to Janet Macleod about the manner in which the old artists mixed their own pigments. Then Macleod said, with a great gentleness and restraint,
"It's a diamond!" remarked Mr. Czenki, as if he himself had doubted it. "A deep rose-color, cut as a perfect sphere." "It's worth half a million dollars if it's worth a cent!" exclaimed Mr. Solomon almost fiercely. "And this, please." Mr.
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