По цей бік раю

           Almostalwaystherewassomeoneelsethereandsheseemednotanxioustoseehimalone,formanyoccasionspresentedthemselveswhenawordfromherwouldhavegivenhimanotherdelicioushalf-hourofadoration.Buthefellgraduallyinloveandbegantospeculatewildlyonmarriage.Thoughthisdesignflowedthroughhisbraineventohislips,stillheknewafterwardthatthedesirehadnotbeendeeplyrooted.Oncehedreamtthatithadcometrueandwokeupinacoldpanic,forinhisdreamshehadbeenasilly,flaxenClara,withthegoldgoneoutofherhairandplatitudesfallinginsipidlyfromherchangelingtongue.Butshewasthefirstfinewomanheeverknewandoneofthefewgoodpeoplewhoeverinterestedhim.Shemadehergoodnesssuchanasset.Amoryhaddecidedthatmostgoodpeopleeitherdraggedtheirsafterthemasaliability,orelsedistortedittoartificialgeniality,andofcoursethereweretheever-presentprigandPharisee—(butAmoryneverincludedthemasbeingamongthesaved).

           ST.CECILIA

           "Overhergrayandvelvetdress,

           Underhermolten,beatenhair,

           Colorofroseinmockdistress

           Flushesandfadesandmakesherfair;

           Fillstheairfromhertohim

           Withlightandlanguorandlittlesighs,

           Justsosubtlyhescarcelyknows...

           Laughinglightning,colorofrose."

           "Doyoulikeme?"

           "OfcourseIdo,"saidClaraseriously.

           "Why?"

           "Well,wehavesomequalitiesincommon.Thingsthatarespontaneousineachofus—orwereoriginally."

           "You’reimplyingthatIhaven’tusedmyselfverywell?"

           Clarahesitated.