It's like
the progress of a fairy princess. I believe this is the
meaning of our getting penned in here," he chuckled
delightedly.
Loder said nothing. He stared straight on over the other's
head.
Along the corridor, agreeably conscious of the hum of
admiration she aroused, came Lillian Astrupp, surrounded by a
little court. Her delicate face was lit up; her eyes shone
under the faint gleam of her hair; her gown of gold embroidery
swept round her gracefully. She was radiant and triumphant,
but she was also excited. The excitement was evident in her
laugh, in her gestures, in her eyes, as they turned quickly in
one direction and then another.
Loder, gazing in stupefaction over the other man's head, saw
it--felt and understood it with a mind that leaped back over a
space of years. As in a shifting panorama he saw a night of
disturbance and confusion in a far-off Italian valley--a
confusion from which one face shone out with something of the
pale, alluring radiance that filtered over the hillside from
the crescent moon.
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