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Galsworthy, John, 1867-1933

"The Patrician"

His face and
hands were sticky with the honey-dew, slowly, invisibly distilling from
the lime-tree. He bent down and felt the grass. And suddenly there came
over him the certainty of her presence. Yes, she was there--out on the
verandah! He could see her white figure from head to foot; and, not
realizing that she could not see him, he expected her to utter some cry.
But no sound came from her, no gesture; she turned back into the
house. Miltoun ran forward to the railing. But there, once more, he
stopped--unable to think, unable to feel; as it were abandoned by
himself. And he suddenly found his hand up at his mouth, as though there
were blood there to be staunched that had escaped from his heart.
Still holding that hand before his mouth, and smothering the sound of
his feet in the long grass, he crept away.


CHAPTER XXX
In the great glass house at Ravensham, Lady Casterley stood close to
some Japanese lilies, with a letter in her hand. Her face was very
white, for it was the first day she had been allowed down after an
attack of influenza; nor had the hand in which she held the letter its
usual steadiness. She read:

"Monkland Court.
"Just a line, dear, before the post goes, to tell you that Babs has gone
off happily. The child looked beautiful. She sent you her love, and some
absurd message--that you would be glad to hear, she was perfectly safe,
with both feet firmly on the ground.


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