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Updated: June 27, 2025
He had the feeling that behind his back the face had changed from the profile position in which it had been painted, so that the steady stone-gray eyes were challenging his attention. At last he resisted no longer; walking over to the fireplace, he stood gazing up at it. For a moment he tried to pretend to himself that his interest was purely an art-interest.
She might have been his daughter Una with that little fixed star of feeling set like a shining pebble now in her right, fascinated eye, reflected, exaggerated in the glazed cast of pain in the stone-gray eye of the man beneath her, whose climber's suit of homespun was daubed with mountain mud, whose tweed cap was the brooklet's toy. He had been trying to scoop up water in it.
I could fancy him in his new town house, struggling through some endless dinner party his cynical, stone-gray eyes sweeping up and down the table, his lips curled in that habitual sneer, his mind, perhaps, gone back to the red-and-blue room in Chelsea, where he had been wont to stand astride before the black mantel, bellowing indecencies into the ears of witty modernists.
The case is not perfectly cylindrical, being flattened slightly in the middle, and contracted a little just before each end, both of which are always kept open. The case before us is of a stone-gray color, with a black stripe along the middle, and with rings of the same color round each opening. Had the caterpillar fed on blue or yellow cloth, the case would, of course, have been of those colors.
He could feel her honest stone-gray eyes, probing his soul for motives in the darkness. Day was breaking and birds were stirring in the mist of greenness that topped his windows, before his eye-lids closed and he slipped off into forgetfulness. "To-morrow's another new day," he thought as he awoke.
She shot a glance at him with her honest, stone-gray eyes. Her hands started out to touch him, but she recalled them. "You must feel sorry for her," she said softly. "She's so young. I think you'll live to thank her. She'll learn that men like you don't come every day only once in a lifetime." Uneasily he harked back to her first statement. "Why did you fear that I had left?"
In time, too, Fulton's hungry stone-gray face of the last weeks would fade from my memory. Beyond saying that he thought for various reasons we should see less of each other, Fulton had made no effort to keep Lucy and me apart. If he had an adviser in this, that adviser was Schuyler.
Scarcely pausing, she swept him with a pair of stone-gray eyes, made mischievous for the moment with merriment. "You're no good as a butler," she whispered. "You carry discretion too far." To his chagrin he recognized her the one woman whom he would most have chosen to have met in an attitude that was dignified. She entered the drawing-room and was lost to sight.
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