"
St. George went back to the terrace. For hours he paced the paths of
that little upper garden or lay upon the wall among the pungent
vines. But now he forgot the iridescent dark and the companion-sea
and the high moon and the king's palace, for it was not these that
made the necromancy of the night. It was permitted him to watch
before the threshold while Olivia slept, as lovers had watched in
the youth of the world. Whatever the morrow held, to-night had been
added to yesternight. Not until the dawn of that morrow whitened the
sky and drew from the vapourous plain the first far towers of Med,
the King's City, did St. George say good night to her glimmering
windows.
CHAPTER XVI
GLAMOURIE
There is a certain poster, all stars and poppies and deep grass; and
over these hangs a new moon which must surely have been cut by fairy
scissors, for it looks as much like a cake or a cowslip as it looks
like a moon. But withal it sheds a light so eery and strangely
silver that the poster seems, in spite of the poppies, to have been
painted in Spring-wind.
Pages:
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354