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Updated: June 9, 2025
Then she saw him looking at her. Her face, silver-bright in the starlight, was as unreadable as his own note-book. "Are you sure," he was saying, "that you won't be blamed about the car?" "Sure, quite sure. The men have all gone home." "But to-morrow morning? When they see it has been out?" "Not to-morrow morning. No, they won't say anything to-morrow morning. Oh, dear Julien " "Yes?"
Gerbéviller's tragic little river Mortagne gleamed silver-bright beneath a torn lace of delicate white flowers that was like a veil flung off by a fugitive bride. It ran sparkling under the motionless wheel of a burned mill, and twinkled on the one living thing the Germans left to flow through the park of a ruined château.
Back, forth, the Foanna danced and once more their cloaks vanished or were discarded, so their silver-bright figures advanced, retreated, weaving a way from one arabesque to another. First about the outer rim and then in, by spirals and circles. No light except the crimson glowing rivulets on the floor, the silver bodies of the Foanna moving back and forth, in and out.
Gainor stiffened a little and the tuft of beard which ran down to a point on his chin quivered and jutted out. The sheriff seemed to feel nothing more than a mild surprise and curiosity. And the three went silently, side by side, under the spruce. They were glorious trees, strong of trunk and nobly proportioned. Their tops were silver-bright in the sunshine.
A magic luster, effective as hoar-frost, enveloped the ancient church, and the lines of the eaves and the turns of the corners were silver-bright. How still at night was this fairy city in the sea!
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