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Gissing, George, 1857-1903

"Veranilda"


'Oh, I will not pry into chaste secrets. For the present, enough. Go
your ways, Basil, and take courage. I keep faith, as you know; and
that I am disposed to be your friend is not your standing here,
alive and well, a sufficient proof?'
She had risen, and, as she uttered these words, her eyes gleamed
large in the dusk.
'When you wish to see me,' she added, 'come to my house. To you it
is always open. I may perchance send you a message. If so, pay heed
to it.'
Basil was turning away.
'What! Not even the formal courtesy? Your manners have indeed
declined, my poor Basil.'
With an abrupt, awkward movement, he took her half offered hand, and
touched the rings with his lips; then hastened away.
On the edge of the cluster of idlers who were listening to the flute
player stood his needy kinsman. Basil spoke with him for a moment,
postponed their business, and, with a sign to the two slaves in
attendance, walked on. By the Clivus Argentarius he descended to the
Forum. In front of the Curia stood the state' carriage of the City
Prefect, for the Senate had been called together this morning to
hear read some decree newly arrived from Byzantium; and as Basil
drew near he saw the Prefect, with senators about him, come forth
and descend the steps.


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