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Updated: May 13, 2025
"Didn't you ever go to a circus?" she asked, slowly. The boy hesitated. Then he said, bluntly: "No!" and Agnes knew it was the truth, for he looked now unwaveringly into her eyes. "My! you've missed a lot," she breathed. "So did we till this summer. Then Mr. Howbridge took us to one of those that came to Milton." "What circus was it you went to?" the boy asked, quickly.
"You have my permission, Fräulein. The logical time for my death is long past." Mathilde's sharp young face had grown alive with excitement. She sat with her eyes unwaveringly upon the Baron as if her thought were groping desperately beneath the smiling weariness of the man. "Mr. Dorn," she spoke, "von Stinnes is a traitor." Dorn smiled.
Her gaze fastened on Magda's face and clung there unwaveringly while she read the letter. It was a wild, incoherent outpouring the headlong confession of a boy's half-crazed infatuation for a beautiful woman. A pathetic enough document in its confused medley of passionate demand and boyish humbleness.
His gaze was fixed on her unwaveringly; and yet, when she tried to meet its focus, it went behind her as though it pierced the solidity of her body and the walls in the contemplation of a far-removed shining image. Her disturbance grew to the inclusion of a degree of fretfulness at his unbroken silence, his apparent absorption in whatever his meditation projected or found.
A panicky inclination to fly back to the temple came over her. In her heart welled a feeling of resentment. Had he any right to forget what she had done for him? He heard her, turned swiftly, and trembled in every joint. They were but a few paces apart and she was looking unwaveringly into his eyes.
See that transparent pallor, those tearless eyes which gleam unwaveringly, as if their thoughts and their gaze were concentrated on some object visible to them alone. Cause that poor suffering heart to open itself to you. Question your child.
He spoke with steady conviction, his eyes unwaveringly upon her. For seconds now she had endured his look without flinching. As she had said, there was nothing left for her to fear. But at his words her face changed, and unmistakable apprehension took the place of despair. "No, no!" she said quickly. "He did not obtain it in that way.
"Isn't that what you mean, Mrs. Calladine?" "Where is Mark?" said the Major suddenly, looking hard at Antony. Antony looked back unwaveringly and said nothing. "I think," said the Major gently, leaning over to Mrs. Calladine, "that it would be better if you took Betty back to London to-night." "Very well," she agreed quietly. "You will come with us, Ruth?"
Never again from this day did they allude to this sacred resolution; but they acted up to it, or strove to do so, not indeed unwaveringly, yet with manful courage, in the strength of that pure, strong, beautiful unity of heart and purpose which this day had cemented between them for the rest of their school-life.
And yet my midnight philosophy stands the test of my breed. I must have selected my books out of the ten thousand generations that compose me. I have killed a man Steve Roberts. As a perishing blond without an alphabet I should have done this unwaveringly.
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