Jack's complexion was that of a gipsy; Darrell's as fresh and bright as a rose. ‘Gerald had to change both shirt and breeches. ” “Sorry. ’ Hilary stared at him. ’ ‘But she must have known I’d longed to hear of you. . Love lives on a higher plane. I’m not half smart enough for the West End. ” She thanked him with a look and rose to her feet. To such characters, fine actions are in themselves sufficient. It seemed incredible that she and her aunt were, indeed, creatures of the same blood, only by a birth or so different beings, and part of that same broad interlacing stream of human life that has invented the fauns and nymphs, Astarte, Aphrodite, Freya, and all the twining beauty of the gods.
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