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Updated: June 28, 2025
Mercer's daylight was always more or less wan; but in the autumn the yellow fogs seemed to press the low-hanging smoke down into the great bowl of the hills at the bottom of which the town lay, and the wanness scarcely lightened, even at high noon. On such days the gas in the dining-room or office, if one prefers to call it so flared from breakfast until dinner time.
"General," she continued, throwing aside her veil, which had hitherto concealed features pale even to wanness," I have the strongest the most urgent reasons for the prosecution of my journey, and gladly do I accept your offer."
'Did you come across a man called Barto Rizzo there, signorina? I suspect him to be the author of this. At the name of Barto Rizzo, Laura's eyes widened, awakening a memory in Ammiani; and her face had a spectral wanness. 'I must go to my chamber, she said. 'Talk of it together. I will be with you soon. She left them. Ammiani bent over to Vittoria's ear.
The dying woman did not at first attend to the entrance either of Dummie or the female at the foot of the bed, but she turned herself round towards the child, and grasping his arm fiercely, she drew him towards her, and gazed on his terrified features with a look in which exhaustion and an exceeding wanness of complexion were even horribly contrasted by the glare and energy of delirium.
It was a face like a crystal lamp in which the flame has died. The ghastly little skull-cap showed forth its wanness rigidly. Rhoda wondered to hear her talk simply of home and the old life. At each question, the then and the now struck her spirit with a lightning flash of opposing scenes. But the talk deepened.
It was a face like a crystal lamp in which the flame has died. The ghastly little skull-cap showed forth its wanness rigidly. Rhoda wondered to hear her talk simply of home and the old life. At each question, the then and the now struck her spirit with a lightning flash of opposing scenes. But the talk deepened.
My poetry was never more than this it was all quotation all a reflection of the things I had wanted to feel in life. I never wrote a sincere line," she added. He pressed her hand it was his way of showing that he loved her none the less because she was not a poet and then as the unnatural wanness overspread her face, he went out softly, leaving her in Gerty's care.
Joyce had been studying his face nothing had escaped her: its wanness, the sharp outline, and the tears congealed in the hollows of his cheeks. She pulled her chair nearer, and took his extended hand. "I'm sorry you've been sick," she said simply. Then they smiled at each other.
In the pale moonlight, which lent a wanness of its own to the delicate face where thoughtful care already mingled with a winning grace and loveliness of youth, the too bright eye, the spiritual head, the lips that pressed each other with such high resolve and courage of the heart, the slight figure, firm in its bearing, and yet so very weak, told their silent tale; but told it only to the wind that rustled by.
Strether stared at him with a little of the wanness, no doubt, that the vision of more to "make out" could scarce help producing. "I mean HOW good are they?" "Oh awfully good." Again Strether had faltered, but it was brief. It was all very well, but there was nothing now he wouldn't risk. "Excuse me, but I must really as I began by telling you know where I am. Is she bad?"
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