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Updated: June 9, 2025
Griggs, you ought really to tell us a tale from the Arabian Nights. I am sure it would seem so very real, you know." "If I were to spin yarns while steering, Miss Dabstreak," I said, "your fate would probably resemble Sindbad's. You would be wrecked six or seven times between here and Kavák." "So delightfully exciting," murmured Chrysophrasia.
As for religion, her mind is disturbed in its choice between a palatable form of Buddhism and a particularly luscious adaptation of Greek mythology; but in either case as much Christianity would be indispensable as would give the whole a flavor of crusading. I hope I am not hard upon Miss Chrysophrasia, but the fact is she is not what shall I say? not sympathetic to me.
Chrysophrasia leaned wearily back in her corner. Paul and Hermione tried to talk, and failed, and Professor Cutter promenaded his regards, to borrow an appropriate French expression, upon the buildings, the people, and the view.
She has no more idea of marrying Paul than Chrysophrasia has, or than Paul has of marrying her. Besides, she is far too young to think of such things." "Really, John, Hermy is nineteen. She is nearly twenty." "My dear," retorted Carvel, "you will make me think you want them to marry." "Nonsense, John!" "Well, nonsense, if you like.
Carvel's face assumed a sweet and sad expression, and folding her hands upon her knees, she leaned slightly forward from the chair upon which she sat, and prepared to soothe her sister's views upon hollow shams in general. "My dear," said she, "you must endeavor to be charitable." "I do not see the use of being charitable," returned Chrysophrasia, with more energy than she was wont to display.
The Greeks were never dull." "What do you call dull?" asked Mrs. Carvel very mildly. "Oh anything; parliamentary reports, for instance, and agricultural shows, and the Rural Dean, anything of that sort," answered Miss Chrysophrasia languidly. "In other words, civilization as compared with barbarism," I suggested.
Old eski, eski! Very old! Twenty-five-six pounds, lady! Hein! Pacha give more." "I fear that the traditions of his race are very strong," remarked Chrysophrasia, languidly examining the embroidery, a magnificent piece of work, about a yard and a half square, wrought in gold and silver threads upon a dark-red velvet ground; evidently of considerable antiquity, but in excellent preservation.
They reached the mosque, and after skating about in the felt overshoes provided for the use of unbelievers, Cutter suggested going up to the galleries. "It is so very, very far!" murmured Chrysophrasia, who was watching a solitary young Sufí, who sat reciting his lesson aloud to himself in a corner, swaying his body backwards and forwards with the measure of his chant.
Mary Carvel would give her vote for the Dalesman, and Chrysophrasia for Plato, but I have not consulted them; and if I do not consult you, it is because I think I understand your tastes.
But life has attractions for Chrysophrasia. She enjoys it after her own fashion. It is a little disconnected. The relation between cause and effect is a little obscure. She is fragmentary. She is a series of unfinished sketches in various manners. She has her being in the past tense, and her future, if she could have it after her taste, would be the past made present.
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