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Updated: May 15, 2025
"You haven't been at at this long, have you?" inquired John of Susan. "Not long," replied she. Etta, somewhat giddied, overheard and put in, "We began tonight. We got tired of starving and freezing." John looked deepest sympathy into Susan's calm violet-gray eyes. "I don't blame you," said he. "A woman does have a a hades of a time!"
But one flutter of a white dress he saw beneath the trees, and then it disappeared behind them, causing Pinckney to quicken his steps. He thought he knew the shape and motion, and he followed it until he came upon it suddenly, behind the trees, and it turned. A young girl of wonderful beauty, rare, erect carriage, and eyes of a strange, violet-gray, full of much meaning.
"Wouldn't I just like to walk in here some day, and order old Tonker round?" said Elise, disregarding. "I only hope she'll hold out till I can! Won't I have a black silk suit as thick as a board, with fifteen yards in the kilting? And a violet-gray, with a yard of train and Yak-flounces!" "That isn't my sort," said Kate Sencerbox, emphatically. "It's played out, for me.
His eyes were appealingly tender as he gazed at her sweet, pensive face, with its violet-gray eyes full of mystery and sorrow and longing. And the clear pallor of her skin, and the slender yet voluptuous lines of her form suggested a pale, beautiful rose, most delicate of flowers yet about the hardiest. "So you've married and settled down?" "No," replied Susan. "Neither the one nor the other."
Her thinness took on an ethereal transparency that gave charm even to her slight stoop. Her face became dreamy, exalted, rapt; and her violet-gray eyes looked from it like the vents of poetical fires burning without ceasing upon an altar to the god of dreams.
The detective stepped back on the grating, flattening himself against the outer sill of his window. Again the chuckler now an unmistakable laugh floated to his ears. With a smothered exclamation he stepped forward again, and looked upward. There, against the violet-gray of the star-sprinkled sky, bulked a crouching shape, cuddled on the landing above. Brencherly held his breath.
The sky was a hazy horizon blue, unblemished save for a few vaporous clouds far in the west; the sun, well toward the end of its journey, was hazy, too, a thing of mystery; in the far eastern distance the broad Atlantic softened to a hazy violet-gray which, in turn, blended, almost without a line of demarcation, into the still more distant heavens.
And Susan was again her calm, sweet self, as the violet-gray eyes gazing pensively from the small, strongly-featured face plainly showed. Herself again, with the wound deepest if not cruelest of her many wounds covered and with its poison under control.
Quite sure you can afford this extravagance for it is an extravagance." "He must have the best we can afford," evaded she. She waited in the office while Hamilton went up. When he came down after perhaps half an hour, he had an air of cheerfulness. "Everything going nicely," said he. Susan's violet-gray eyes gazed straight into his brown eyes; and the brown eyes dropped.
A man in mask and violet-gray court costume rose from a marble seat under the pergola and advanced toward her, the palm of his left hand carelessly balanced on his gilded hilt. "So you did get my note, Duane?" she said, laying her pretty hand on his arm. "I certainly did. What can I do for you, Rosalie?" "I don't know. Shall we sit here a moment?"
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