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Updated: June 20, 2025
Out of this photographic grove of dead things the uncaring clock threw out upon the air a living three the fateful three that had been measured for each tomb and temple in its own land and time. A knock, regretful but positive, was heard, and the door opening into the hall was quietly pushed open.
Archdale was not only reckless of her health; she was also reckless perhaps uncaring would be the truer word of something which John Coxeter supposed every nice woman to value even more than her health or appearance, that is the curiously intangible, and yet so easily frayed, human vesture termed reputation.
These sad fancyings chimeras, doubtless, of a sick and silly brain led on to other and more special thoughts, concerning the eccentricities of Bartleby. Presentiments of strange discoveries hovered round me. The scriveners pale form appeared to me laid out, among uncaring strangers, in its shivering winding sheet.
He sprang directly toward its large window, and as he floated "upward" he corrected his course and accelerated his pace by firing backward at various angles with his heavy service pistol, uncaring that at the point of impact of each of those shells a small blast of destruction erupted.
Live, be lovely, forget us, be beautiful, even to proudness, Even for their poor sakes whose happiness is to behold you; Live, be uncaring, be joyous, be sumptuous; only be lovely! 'Uncaring, however, little Lady Helen never was. If she was a fairy, she was a fairy all heart, all frank, foolish smiles and tears. 'No, Lady Helen no, Robert said again.
I drew a great couch out of its place near the corner, so that as I lay, I could look at the lovely view to east and south, and unthinking of and uncaring for the dust, composed myself for sleep. I suppose I must have fallen asleep.
Osborn turned away with a sharp exclamation; and heard her door click behind her while he still stood in the corridor. "That's that!" he breathed hard. The next morning he took a bag with him and in the afternoon he wired home: "Shall not be back for dinner." She read the telegram, uncaring. Two years ago it would have made her fear.
She sat where she could watch the window, Dick's revolver in another chair beside her. It was a still, starry night, and faintly she could see the hazy purple, mountain line. Somewhere beneath those uncaring stars was the man who had done this awful thing. Was he far, or was he near? Would he come to make sure he had not failed? Her fearful heart told her that he would come.
Each taut toe touched each point of bearing just as was required above the quagmire, and, all unperceiving and uncaring, he fled over dirty death as easily as he might have run upon some hardened woodland pathway. He did not think nor know nor care about what he was doing. He was only running away from the something he had never known before! Why should he be running now?
Someone was sitting at her old desk, and they did not seem to be making the changes they had contemplated; everyone in the office seemed very busy and uncaring, and because she knew her chin was trembling she turned away.
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