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Galsworthy, John, 1867-1933

"The Patrician"

To Courtier descending towards the square, the
swaying white faces, turned all one way, seemed like the heads of giant
wild flowers in a dark field, shivered by wind. The night had charmed
away the blue and yellow facts, and breathed down into that throng the
spirit of emotion. And he realized all at once the beauty and meaning
of this scene--expression of the quivering forces, whose perpetual
flux, controlled by the Spirit of Balance, was the soul of the world.
Thousands of hearts with the thought of self lost in one over-mastering
excitement!
An old man with a long grey beard, standing close to his elbow,
murmured:
"'Tis anxious work--I wouldn't ha' missed this for anything in the
world."
"Fine, eh?" answered Courtier.
"Aye," said the old man, "'tis fine. I've not seen the like o' this
since the great year--forty-eight. There they are--the aristocrats!"
Following the direction of that skinny hand Courtier saw on a balcony
Lord and Lady Valleys, side by side, looking steadily down at the crowd.
There too, leaning against a window and talking to someone behind, was
Barbara. The old man went on muttering, and Courtier could see that
his eyes had grown very bright, his whole face transfigured by intense
hostility; he felt drawn to this old creature, thus moved to the very
soul. Then he saw Barbara looking down at him, with her hand raised to
her temple to show that she saw his bandaged head.


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