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41 Chapters
‘A distant dearness in the hill.’ Knight turned his back upon the parish of Endelstow, and crossed over to Cork. One day of absence superimposed itself on another, and proportionately weighted his …
‘On thy cold grey stones, O sea!’ Stephen had said that he should come by way of Bristol, and thence by a steamer to Castle Boterel, in order to avoid the long journey over the hills from St. Launce…
‘A woman’s way.’ Haggard cliffs, of every ugly altitude, are as common as sea-fowl along the line of coast between Exmoor and Land’s End; but this outflanked and encompassed specimen was the ugliest…
‘Should auld acquaintance be forgot?’ By this time Stephen Smith had stepped out upon the quay at Castle Boterel, and breathed his native air. A darker skin, a more pronounced moustache, and an inc…
‘Breeze, bird, an d flower confess the hour.’ The rain had ceased since the sunset, but it was a cloudy night; and the light of the moon, softened and dispersed by its misty veil, was distributed ov…
‘Mine own familiar friend.’ During these days of absence Stephen lived under alternate conditions. Whenever his emotions were active, he was in agony. Whenever he was not in agony, the business in h…
‘To that last nothing under earth.’ All eyes were turned to the entrance as Stephen spoke, and the ancient-mannered conclave scrutinized him inquiringly. ‘Why, ‘tis our Stephen!’ said his father, r…
‘How should I greet thee?’ Love frequently dies of time alone—much more frequently of displacement. With Elfride Swancourt, a powerful reason why the displacement should be successful was that the n…
‘I lull a fancy, trouble-tost.’ Miss Swancourt, it is eleven o’clock.’ She was looking out of her dressing-room window on the first floor, and Knight was regarding her from the terrace balustrade, …
‘Care, thou canker.’ It is an evening at the beginning of October, and the mellowest of autumn sunsets irradiates London, even to its uttermost eastern end. Between the eye and the flaming West, col…
