"'
A great bee which had been busy with the lilac began to circle, booming,
round his hair. Suddenly Hilary saw Mr. Stone raise both his arms.
"'In huge congeries, crowded, devoid of light and air, they were
assembled, these bloodless imprints from forms of higher caste. They
lay, like the reflection of leaves which, fluttering free in the sweet
winds, let fall to the earth wan resemblances. Imponderous, dark ghosts,
wandering ones chained to the ground, they had no hope of any Lovely
City, nor knew whence they had come. Men cast them on the pavements and
marched on. They did not in Universal Brotherhood clasp their shadows to
sleep within their hearts--for the sun was not then at noon, when no man
has a shadow.'"
As those words of swan song died away he swayed and trembled, and
suddenly disappeared below the sight-line, as if he had sat down. The
little model took his place in the open window. She started at seeing
Hilary; then, motionless, stood gazing at him. Out of the gloom of the
opening her eyes were all pupil, two spots of the surrounding darkness
imprisoned in a face as pale as any flower. Rigid as the girl herself,
Hilary looked up at her.
A voice behind him said: "How are you? I thought I'd give my car a run."
Mr. Purcey was coming from the gate, his eyes fixed on the window where
the girl stood.
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