Arthur Stringer

“ It was not Sybil's cry alone that he heard as he struggled and scrambled to get a footing on the muddy bottom. There fell on his ears, as he came to the surface and fought through the tangled lily stalks for safer footing, a second and more distant cry. ”

“ The professor listened to their voices as to the voices of another world. He felt entombed and forgotten. Even Anne was ignoring him. With a sudden little gasp of indignation, he reached up and tore his ridiculous oak leaf garland from his head and flung it into the river. Then he turned from one woman to the other, angrily. It was Anne who spoke first. ”

“ I guess I'll just have to go on cakewalking through life, for I hate hard work and sewing and cooking and cleaning up and having to think and plan ahead!”
“A girl who can—can write poetry like yours doesn't need to know all that sort of thing,” the repentant man mollified the egotistic young pagan at his side, just because she was such a sad and beautiful young pagan. ”