” She smiled at him cheerfully. ” She gazed at him. I keep on thinking of you. ” She led the way, talking all the time to Ennison. She reminded him sometimes of the one holy and ineffable Madonna, at others of Berode, the great courtezan of her day, who had sent kings away from her doors, and had just announced her intention of ending her life in a convent. You made that thing?” “From a kit. He wrote poems to her beauty that he recited from a seemingly infinite memory. She knew that to expect more now was like anticipating a gold-mine in the garden. Niece and aunt regarded each other for a moment over their pockethandkerchiefs with watery but antagonistic eyes, each far too profoundly moved to see the absurdity of the position.
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