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Updated: May 28, 2025
Now while I thus spoke the old man was sorely troubled, and his wax-white face turned paler at each word.
Through the door, half open, I caught a glimpse of a hollow, wax-white face ... he looked as if all the blood had been let out of his body, little by little. The little, pretty, dark woman looked like a crafty animal ... there was a beady shine of triumph, which she could not conceal, in her eyes, as she opposed my entering. I smelt the pungent smell of her physical womanhood.
I knew my eyes were big, and my face was wax-white, an' at the worst I must ha' looked like a ghost. But they took me for the livin' god.
But after a moment she drew away and stared at him. Francois, though he was but thirty, seemed an old man. His bald head shone in the candle-light. His face was a mesh of tiny wrinkles, wax-white, and his lower lip, puckered by the scar of his wound, protruded in an eternal grimace.
And all those hours for seldom were the moments when, against my will I was compelled to gladness I became more and more alone; for Effie being the soul of the festivities, since Mary Strathsay oftenest stood cold and proudly by, wax-white and like a statue on the wall, and all the world looking on at what they deemed to be no less than Angus's courtship, I saw little of her except I rose on my arm to watch her smiling sleep deep in the night.
The sound of a voice issued from his lips "Here I am, Boss Simpson. I heered someone calling me." It was a faint, dried up voice, made wheezy and breathless as by immense exertion. "I'm havin' a reg'lar hellfire kind of a trip, I am." And he laughed, thrusting his head forward into the other's face. But that laugh started the machinery of the group of waxwork figures with the wax-white skins.
The bit of marshy ground has been for weeks a lake of iris, its curving brink foamed with meadow rue and Osmundas that have all the dignity of palms. Now all the pasture edge is set with wild roses and wax-white blueberry flowers.
Now while I thus spoke the old man was sorely troubled, and his wax-white face turned paler at each word.
Jane saw her look shudder away from the open door of the front room, where the chairs had seemed left as if set for some gathering, and the wax-white flowers had been scattered on the floor. She fell into one of the carved hall seats and dropped her face into her hands, her elbows resting on her knees. "Oh! No! No!" she cried. "I can't believe it. I can't believe it!"
I knew my eyes were big, and my face was wax-white, an' at the worst I must ha' looked like a ghost. But they took me for the livin' god.
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