Arthur Stringer

Arthur Stringer

Summary

Portrait of Arthur Stringer Arthur Stringer Through the Valley of Illusion (1902)

Warriner could not see her face.
"A good fellow," he said, simply; "an unspeakably good fellow!"
"Oh, then he did die!" said the girl, laughing, and turning from the mirror. Some intangible sense of escape made her reckless.
"Alice!" reproved her brother-in-law; "Alice!" Then, sorrowfully, after looking up at her for a moment in silence, "Surely your two seasons haven't made you that bad?"
The girl sighed, and looked at him with gently reproving eyes, in which he could see, or thought he could see, some smouldering passion for self-sacrifice and devotion. He took the bronze Hebe from her hand.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Arthur Stringer Arthur Stringer Through the Valley of Illusion (1902)

And how would she accept it, he wondered,—she, with her grave gray eyes in which was written so plainly her woman's capability for suffering, with her proud line of mouth and lip that could not altogether hide some inner passion for sacrifice, some unuttered pleading for her woman's right of pain.
"When this sort of thing happens, a man always ought to thank God he's free!" the old doctor had said to him.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Arthur Stringer Arthur Stringer Through the Valley of Illusion (1902)

He knew that thereafter he must touch all things with muffled hands, as through a mist.
"It's not—not that?" cried Sudworth, poignantly, catching at the old doctor's elbow in a passing moment of darkness.
The old doctor still tried to laugh a little, and then lied stoutly, as doctors often must. The sudden pallor of the patient disturbed him.
"No, no, my dear fellow, of course not!" he said, with an affectionate hand on the other's shoulder. "It's not quite that, but it may be, you know, if we don't catch it in time. A year or two in Mexico often—er—does wonders."
Source: Wikisource

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