"That'll be the same old moon," said Amory. "By Jove! Won't it?"
"It will, please Heaven," said St. George restlessly; "I don't know.
Will it?"
Near the throne was seated a company of dignitaries who wore upon
their breasts great stars and were soberly dressed in a kind of
scholar's gown. Some whispered together and nodded and looked as
solemn as tithing men; and others were feverishly restless and
continually took papers from their graceful sleeves. By
developments these were revealed to be the High Council of Yaque,
conservative and radical, even in dimensional isolation. Farther
back rose tier upon tier of seats sacred to the wives and daughters
of the ministry, and St. George even looked hopelessly and
mechanically among these for the face that he sought.
To some seats slightly elevated, not far from the dais, his
attention was at length challenged by an upheaving and billowing of
purple and black. He looked, and in the same instant what seemed to
have been a kind of storm centre resolved itself cloudily into Mrs.
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