Arthur Stringer

“ The professor, with every sign and token of distress, protested that Anne was always exaggerating things.
“Anne's a dear!” cried the girl, with a touch of reproof in her voice. “Father says she's the finest woman that ever walked in shoe leather. She's found something to do in life. She's made herself mean something in this world. She's not just an idler, an atom, like me!” ”

“ The young' professor coughed gravely.
“You see, being so much alone up here, I've had to think things out for myself. Then reading father's proofs for him——” She broke off with a laugh. “Father says I know too much for my own good. But of course that's all rubbish. Still, I seem to feel things somehow—things that every other woman who ever lived learned and felt, ages and ages ago. I imagine myself Sappho, sometimes—don't laugh!—and sometimes I've the feeling that I'm Joan hearing voices, and sometimes Francesca looking out of lonely towers on a strange world!” ”

“ As the young man guardedly pushed the tangled plum branches to one side, his startled eyes made out the crystal glimmer of a secluded pool. On the greensward beside this pool knelt a young girl, vigorously toweling a great mass of golden-yellow hair. As it fell and swung over her face, from time to time, she threw back her head with a quick upward motion, to free herself of the engulfing cascade. Her round young arms were bare, and gleamed in the strong sunlight. ”